Courage By Potions
by Janara
Summary: AU, sixth year story; do not follow the last two books! Sick and tired of the way everyone is trying to force him to become Ginny's boyfriend, our hero is seeking for a way to tell everyone what he thinks of them. Alas, things do not turn out the way he thought they would. No pairings.
1. How Do You Solve A Problem?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, alas.

* * *

_How Do You Solve A Problem Like Ginny Weasley?_

Pacing back and forth in an empty class room, Harry Potter silently cursed under his breath while running his hands repeatedly through his hair. He had – stupidly it would seem – thought that his life would get a bit easier now that he was back at Hogwarts again.

Then again, when had his life ever been easy? But considering the hell he'd lived through last year, and the miserable summer he'd just experienced, Harry had indeed thought that his life was about to take a turn for the better.

Hah! Proved how much he knew. Ron was obsessing over Quidditch, somewhat understandingly since he had finally been made a member of the school team; still, the redhead could find _something_ else to talk about now and then, couldn't he?

And when Ron wasn't talking his ear off about Quidditch, Hermione took his place, obsessing over their N.E.W.T.s, when she wasn't nagging him to death about how he was feeling.

Merlin knew he loved that girl, but right now Hermione was driving him up the bloody wall with her bi-polar personality. The N.E.W.T.s was still two whole years away, why should he stress about them now? And since Hermione hadn't lost anyone close to her, she sucked as a grief counsellor, but try to tell her that.

Still, Harry was used to his friends and their quirks, and, even if they were driving him batty at the moment, he put up with them because they were his friends and Harry knew that he wouldn't have survived the past five years without them.

No, what had pushed him way past his endurance was Ginny bloody Weasley.

Apparently, Ginny had decided, all by her lonesome, that she and Harry would make the perfect couple. And as a result of this conviction, Ginny had been pursuing him with a single-mindedness that was, frankly, quite frightening.

But what made a bad situation worse was the way both Ron and Hermione was encouraging her. When Harry had called his friends on their meddling, politely asking them to butt out, they had had the gall to lecture him, informing him that all he needed to be happy was love.

Harry snorted to himself as he recalled the last 'conversation' he'd had with his friends about Ginny and her obsession. The way Ron and Hermione was talking you'd think getting a girlfriend would make everything right in his life.

"If that is the case, then why the hell doesn't the two of them admit their feelings and start dating?" Harry muttered angrily, pacing some more. "If all you need is love, then why don't _they_ grab hold of it with both hands and live happily ever after?" Sneering in disgust, the black haired teen changed direction and began to pace around the room anticlockwise.

What no one seemed to understand was that Harry didn't _want_ a girlfriend. He didn't want a boyfriend either for that matter. But if he _was_ to get a significant other, then Harry was pretty sure that other would be a boy and not a girl.

Not that it really mattered at the moment since Harry most definitely wasn't looking for a love interest. What with Voldemort and the war... no, Harry really couldn't see himself putting another human being in danger by dating them. He could never paint that big a target on someone else's back, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters would never overlook such a potential target as Harry Potter's sweetheart.

He had tried explaining that to Ron and Hermione, hoping that it would force them to see sense and stop trying to force him to spend time with Ginny.

Sadly, that talk had not gone well.

Ron had blown up and ended up shouting at him; Harry still was somewhat unsure just what his redheaded friend had been trying to tell him, the point had been lost early on in the shouting match. And Hermione had actually burst into tears and run for her dorm, sobbing incoherently into her handkerchief.

It had taken his friends three days to recover from that confrontation, and afterwards they'd been even more determined to set him up with Ginny. Not the outcome Harry had been hoping for.

"Maybe if I told them I am gay...?" Harry mused, running his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time. Pausing for a moment, the sixteen year old actually considered that option, but then he shook his head and began pacing again. "Nah, Ron would only blow up again, and Hermione... I'm not sure how Hermione would react to that piece of news, but I bet my last Knut that it would give her something new to lecture me about.

"Besides, if I told them that, it would soon end up in the papers, and I am _really_ not interested in reading about what the _Daily Prophet_ and _Which_ _Weekly_ has to say about my nonexistent love life," Harry added with a shudder. He wouldn't mind telling the entire world he was gay, _if_ he had lover he'd be proud to show off.

But as long as he didn't have a boyfriend, Harry truly didn't see the point of outing himself. The Wizarding world truly didn't care who you loved, since procreation was no problem as long as you had access to magic. And potions.

No, Harry wasn't ashamed of who he was, he simply didn't want to open that can of worms until he absolutely had to.

Sighing gustily, Harry considered his options. There had to be some way for him to get out of this mess. The way he saw it, there were only two things he could do. String Ginny along, pretending to have feelings for her that he didn't have, or, somehow, get it through her thick head that he simply wasn't interested.

Alas, Ginny didn't listen to him any better than Ron and Hermione did.

"What to do, what to do..." Harry mused, pacing some more while chewing on a thumbnail. He had tried being kind to the girl, informing her he wasn't interested in her _that_ way. When that didn't help, on the contrary, it had only made Ginny more determined to get her own way, Harry had tried being indifferent towards her, resulting in a spectacular blow-up from Ron who had accused him of ignoring his little sister, demanding to know if she wasn't good enough for Harry to spend time with.

Shaking his head, Harry still couldn't believe the thick-headedness of his best friend. Why couldn't Ron, for once in his life, see what he was doing to Harry with his pigheadedness? Why was it always Harry who had to conform to what other expected of him? Why couldn't the others bend their necks once in a while and change their ways for Harry's sake?

Pushing those thoughts and feelings aside, knowing that he could not afford to start doubting his friends now, Harry returned to the thorny problem that was Ginevra Weasley.

What else could he do to make Ginny back off that he hadn't already tried? A kind let down, indifference, a cold shoulder, all that he had tried and _still_ Ginny was coming onto him as if her life depended on him dating her.

No, it was becoming blatantly clear to Harry that he needed to something else, something... shocking if he was to get through to the girl that he simply wasn't interested in becoming her boyfriend. But what? What could he possibly do to cause that effect?

"It's too bad I'm too much of a coward to just tell her to her face what I think of her and her scheming," Harry muttered to the air with a gusty sigh. "For that matter, it's too bad that I'm too timid and meek to tell the whole world where it can stick its demands and expectations," Harry added, feeling extremely daring to get that much off his chest. But really, ever since the _Daily Prophet_ started calling him the Chosen One, the expectations had just become... ridiculous. Particularly in the light of the garbage the paper had written about him he previous year. Harry was this close to telling them all to kiss his arse.

Grumbling under his breath about the idiocy of the wizarding world, the black haired wizard suddenly froze mid-step, almost sending himself crashing to the floor.

There had been something... Something he had read once... Trying valiantly to chase down the vague memory that had suddenly popped into his mind only to just as swiftly pop out again, Harry stood frozen to the spot until, with a burst of euphoria, he suddenly remembered. It had been something he had read in one of the defence texts the Room of Requirement had provided him with the previous year. Something about a potions that was commonly used in the old days to cure a warrior in training from being shy and timid.

If the potion truly did what Harry thought it did... then it just might be the answer to all of his problems.

Breaking into a wide, beaming grin, Harry cast a quick Tempus. Taking note of the time, the teen decided that he did indeed have time to go looking for the book before curfew. With the way his luck had been running lately, the potion was probably insanely difficult to make, but right now Harry simply did not care. It didn't matter how difficult the blasted thing was to make, it was definitely worth the time and effort to look it up. Hopefully, he would manage to master it before he was old and grey.

Before he found himself bonded to one Ginerva Weasley.

With a shudder of disgust, Harry tore out of the abandoned classroom he'd taken refuge in. _Any_ fate was better than _that_.


	2. See What Desperation Led Me To

_See What Desperation Led Me To_

For the next few weeks Harry found himself extremely busy. The professors, sadistic bastards that they were, heaped loads of homework upon their poor students' heads, causing Ron to despair while Hermione was driven into a tizzy.

To prevent being nagged to death, Harry dutifully spent time in the library doing his homework as soon as it was assigned, escaping as soon as it was humanly possible without arousing Hermione's suspicion. Fortunately, Ron was severely behind in his homework, giving Hermione plenty of reasons to hound him about his poor work ethics, making her too busy to bother much with Harry for a while.

So Harry happily spent most of his time in the Room of Requirement, studying the three potions the brilliant room had provided him with.

The first potion was old. So old that Harry couldn't even figure out what language it was written in. In fact, he wasn't even sure what the potion was supposed to do.

The second one was Dark with a capital D. Harry read through the ingredients list once and then proceeded to throw up every single meal he'd eaten in the past week. That potion was then summarily dismissed from the teen's mind.

The third potions turned out to be an invention by Salazar Slytherin himself. From what little research the room gave him, the founder had create it to help his youngest daughter overcome her crippling shyness. The girl had apparently been twenty-five when she drank it, and Harry could find no mention whether age or gender mattered or not for the potion to work.

Harry dithered for quite a while whether to use the potion or not, but since he didn't have any other alternatives, and since he was becoming rather desperate, Harry threw cautions to the winds and began brewing.

ooOoo

"Albus Dumbledore is a sadistic old bastard that should be strung up by his toenails," Harry fumed as he stormed through the empty corridors of Hogwarts.

Two weeks ago, the Headmaster had announced that there would be a Halloween masquerade ball this year to 'aid with the festive spirit of the season', as Dumbledore had put it. And to help give 'everyone something other than the war to talk about'.

Ginny had immediately informed everyone that she and Harry was going to attend the ball together. As a couple. As a _couple_ couple. She had then spent the following two weeks talking Harry's ear off every time she managed to corner him, demanding to know what he wanted to dress up as, yet not giving him an opening to actually give his opinion.

_Maybe because every time I did give my opinion, it was to tell her that we wouldn't be going together, especially not as a couple_, Harry mused darkly. Not that Ginny had listened. _It's as if she is part leech or something, what with the way it is impossible to get away from her. And i can't __believe__ the way Ron is encouraging her. Hermione too for that matter. _

Fed up with her prattle, Harry had done everything but outright yelling at her, informing her repeatedly that he wasn't interested in going to the party, and _still_ Ginny would latch on to him at every opportunity, prattling on about their costumes and what a wonderful time they would have at the party, and how jealous everyone would be once they realised that Harry Potter was now officially off the market.

The last remark had earned her a sharp rebuff and an extremely cold shoulder. Ginny must have noticed it this time because she had actually apologies to him for her 'poor choice of words'. But she hadn't lost her attitude, or the proud smirk she wore every time she'd managed to latch onto his arm.

Feeling thoroughly fed up, Harry had done his best to avoid her, and this was why he was storming through empty corridors ridiculously early in the morning, intent on spending this particular day hiding in the Room of Requirements.

Grumbling silently under his breath, Harry paced angrily back and forth the required three times, envisioning what he needed. Yanking the door open, Harry closed his eyes and prayed with all his might that today would be the day that he finally managed to brew the blasted potions correct.

Walking through the doorway, Harry nodded in approval at the first rate potions lab the castle had provided him with. Taking a deep breath, half expecting Snape to appear around a corner to start berating him the way he always did, Harry cautiously stepped up to the waiting cauldron.

Dropping his bag on the work table he slowly began to unpack the needed ingredients, mentally going over each and every step of the recipe, double checking everything before he started his preparations. Considering the number of times he'd tried to brew this blasted thing, Harry could now almost do it in his sleep. And despite that he had yet to get it right. There was always some small thing that he managed to mess up.

Sending up a second prayer to anyone willing to listen, Harry took a deep breath and began to brew.

ooOoo

Five hours later found an incredulous black haired, green eyed wizard staring down into a cauldron, not believing his eyes. He had actually done it. He, Harry James Potter, the number one dunderhead when it came to potions, according to Snape, had managed to accurately brew a complex potion.

Letting out a whoop of joy, Harry did a careful victory dance around the room. He had done it! He had actually done it. And without causing a single explosion.

This time, he was forced to add.

"Hah! Take that, Snape!" Harry shouted with glee, collapsing into a chair, laughing hysterically.

"I did it. I actually did it. I can't believe it. I did the brewing, I can see the result, but I still can't believe it," he muttered, doing his best to catch his breath, all the while beaming with pride in his accomplishment.

Regaining some resemblance of calm, Harry got to his feet, resuming a business like air. Rechecking his notes one last time just to make sure everything was in order, the teen carefully bottled the finished product, sealing them tightly and labelling them with prewritten labels, having half a mind to slip one of them to Neville, figuring the shy boy could do with some courage as well. All but for the last bottle, which Harry held up in a mock salute before drowning it in one go, shuddering slightly at the taste. Still, he had tasted worse in the hospital wing.

Putting the bottle down, Harry anxiously waited for what would happen next. Salazar's note hadn't exactly been forthcoming, only noting that the end result had met with his approval, whatever that meant.

For several tense moments nothing seemed to happen, and Harry began to worry that maybe his potions hadn't been as perfect as he'd thought. He even began to panic, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to Snape if he ended up needing the bastard's help un-kinking whatever Harry had done wrong. But then, like a lightning bolt from a clear sky, a wave of dizziness swept through him, and then it felt as if his head was splitting in four.

Harry never noticed when he staggered, bumping into the table and sending the bottles crashing to the floor. He never noticed slumping forward, falling to the floor with a resounding thud, moaning and twitching as if he was subjected to the Cruciatus curse. Harry didn't notice since he was too busy trying not to scream his head off. Then everything went mercifully black.

ooOoo

Slowly blinking his eyes open, Harry blearily wondered where the hell he was, and why, exactly, it felt as if his head had just fallen off. Sitting up, the teen immediately groaned and grabbed his aching head, suddenly wishing it _had_ fallen off. At least then he wouldn't be suffering from the worst migraine he had ever experienced in his young life.

Using the furniture as a crutch, Harry slowly and laboriously climbed onto his feet. Reeling slightly, the youth manage, somehow, to slide into a chair instead of falling back onto the floor on his butt.

Focusing solely on his breathing, keeping his eyes clenched shut, Harry waited for the world to settle down and stop spinning widely. Little by little, the headache began to diminish, and eventually he was able to start taking stock of how he was actually feeling.

And what he was feeling was... surprisingly good.

Opening his eyes and sitting up straight, Harry felt as if a heavy burden had fallen off his shoulders. Feeling ready to try his luck once more, Harry slowly and carefully rose to his feet, beaming happily as the world kindly staid in one place, as he daringly tried to walk around the room.

Feeling bolder, the young wizard did a few stretching exercises, trying out the range of his limbs. There was a residual soreness, but nothing he couldn't live with. Happy that everything seemed to be in working order, Harry asked for a full length mirror, wanting to make a visual check just to be sure. And to see if there were any notable changes to his appearance or if they were all internal.

Scrutinizing his appearance carefully, Harry noted that nothing seemed to have changed. His hair was still black and messy. His eyes were still green and he still needed his glasses. He was still short and scrawny, more the pity, and he still bore that hateful lightning bolt shaped scar that had caused him so much sorrow and misery.

And he still wore those disgusting cast-offs his aunt had given him last year.

Making a face of disgust, Harry decided then and there that they had _got_ to go. Why he hadn't thrown them away years ago and bought himself some _real_ clothes was beyond him, but no more.

No more.

But how was he supposed to get hold of new clothes? It wasn't as if he could just pop away to London or some other big city and shop. Hell, he couldn't even go to Hogsmeade and buy some wizard made clothes.

Turning away from the mirror with a frustrated sigh, the teen began to pace. There had to be something he could do. Perhaps he could transfigure them or something? The one snag to that plan was that he had no idea how to do that. Neither McGonagall nor Flitwick had ever mentioned any useful spells designed to help you restyle your wardrobe apart from a colour changing spell or two, and Harry didn't really think that would be enough to help him look respectable. Dudley's cast-offs needed more help than that, much more help than that.

Starting to feel somewhat desperate, yet resigned to keep wearing these disgusting rags, Harry couldn't help but yelp as the room began to change. The potions lab slowly melted away, turning into a small, cosy looking study with a stack of books sitting innocently on the desk. Groaning at his own stupidity – how could he have forgotten where he was? What the Room of Requirement was capable of? Sending a mental apology to Hogwarts, Harry walked over to the worktable and plonked down onto the chair, reaching eagerly for first book. It looked like he had some more studying to do before rejoining the rest of the school.


	3. Telling Them Where To Stick It

_Telling Them Where To Stick It_

"Harry James Potter, where have you been?! You missed the Feast! In fact, you missed all your classes too. What happened to you? Where were you? Did you have a vision? Did you-"

Harry looked at his frazzled looking friend askance before pointedly returning to his breakfast. "Good morning, Hermione, I hope you slept well? I had a peaceful night, thank you for asking. As for where I was yesterday... To tell you the truth, I find it insulting that no one remembers, or seems to care for that matter, that Halloween is not a happy holiday for me. So yes, I skipped my classes yesterday, and yes, I skipped the bloody Feast as well. Why should I attend a ball I do not wish to attend, pretend to be happy when I am not, and for what? To make the masses happy? They can bloody well be happy on their own on this particular day. I am through pretending happiness for their sake instead of paying my respect to my parents for my sake."

Doing a fair impression of a goldfish, Hermione could only stare at her best friend that suddenly seemed to be a perfect stranger. How was it that she didn't know this? Why hadn't Harry ever mentioned that he felt this way?

"Harry... are you feeling alright?" Hermione eventually asked weakly, sinking down onto the nearest empty chair, for once not having a clue what to think or feel, even less what to say.

"I'm fine, thanks. In fact, I've never felt better in my life," Harry replied with a careless shrug of his shoulders. "How about you? You look a bit peeked, if you don't mind me saying so. Are you coming down with something, perhaps? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked solicitously.

"No, I'm fine," Hermione replied automatically, her mind already busy trying to figure out what was wrong with Harry.

"Hmm, are you sure? You don't look fine. Are you sure you aren't coming down with something? A fever perhaps? Or a cold? Did you sleep okay last night?" Harry persisted, reaching up to feel Hermione's forehead with the back of his hand.

Startled, Hermione battled the hand away in irritation. "I'm _fine_, Harry, I'm just a bit... surprised, is all. You've never complained about Halloween before. I had no idea it made you feel... uncomfortable," she added a bit lamely, wondering if she should mention this new aversion this to Professor Dumbledore or not.

"Yes I have, you simply chose not to hear me," Harry replied quietly, staring down into his teacup for a moment. Taking a deep breath he added more cheerfully, "Never mind, it is an entire year before it arrives again. Let's just hope that Dumbledore doesn't have any more lame brained ideas next year."

Hermione bristled, both at the slur against the Headmaster, and the insinuation that she didn't listen to her friend, but before she could decide which issue to address first, another voice made itself known.

"Hey mate where did you disappear to yesterday? McGonagall was not happy with you for skipping her class. And when she found out that you hadn't attended a single one of them... I'd watch out if I were you, the old tabby is on a warpath, that's all I'm saying," Ron said, plonking down at the table, immediately starting to pile food onto his plate. "You'd better stay clear of my sister as well, she did not taking being stood up well. Just what were you thinking, Harry?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, scandalised.

Both boys ignored her with practised ease.

Clenching his teeth, Harry struggled to keep his temper in check. "I spent yesterday in solitude, paying my respect to my parents," he replied once he felt somewhat in control of his emotions, and his magic. It wasn't entirely a lie; he had thought a lot about his mum and dad while working on the potion, wondering if they would have approved of what he was doing. And if he would even need the thing if they had still been alive.

"Huh?" Ron asked intelligently, his mouth full of food as always. "Why would you do that for? I mean, you missed the _Feast_, mate."

Clenching his jaw, and his teacup, Harry sent the redhead a dark look. "Are food, chess, and Quidditch the only things you ever think about? My parents _died_ last night, fifteen years ago. Excuse me for not being happy and cheerful on the anniversary of their deaths," Harry said harshly, slamming his cup down, his appetite now officially gone. Getting to his feet, grabbing hold of his book bag, the black haired teen stormed out of the Great Hall, his magic making the air around him crackle with power.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked clueless, looking at Hermione in hopes for an explanation.

"I'm not sure," Hermione replied slowly, biting her lower lip. "I guess... I guess, what with the loss of Snuffles at the end of last year that he is a bit more... sensitive about his losses this year. Let's just give him some space. I'm sure he will be back to normal soon.

"...And if he isn't, we'll just talk to Professor Dumbledore, he should be able to help Harry."

"Oh, ok," Ron said, appeased, turning back to consuming his breakfast, the matter settled in his mind, leaving him free to pursue more important things, such as his empty stomach.

ooOoo

Harry had barely reached the Charms classroom before a house-elf appeared in front of him stating, "Master Headmaster sir is wanting to see Harry Potter," before popping away again.

Sighing, Harry allowed himself a moment of weakness and leaned his head against the cool stone wall. Oh, how he wished he could tell the old coot just what he could do with his summon. Unfortunately, Dumbledore still held far too much power over him. Not to mention there was that little matter of him skipping all his classes yesterday.

...And the bloody masquerade ball.

Sighing gustily, Harry pushed away from the wall and slowly began the trek to the Headmaster's office. He might as well get the lecture over and done with.

ooOoo

Standing before the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Harry realised with a start that the elf had forgotten to give him the password. Glowering darkly, the teen pondered what to do next.

Normally, he would simply start listing the name of every sweet, be they muggle or magical, until the bloody stone figure felt like moving out of his way. (Seriously, Dumbledore had to decide when the gargoyle was to move. The thing was supposed to guard the Headmaster's office right? What kind of security was it when everyone knew that all you had to do was list sweets until you hit the correct one?)

But this situation wasn't normal. Harry was no longer in awe of the aged wizard and would be deliriously happy if he never had to set eyes on him again. So why should he stand here and reel off name of different sweets? Since Dumbledore was the one who had 'requested' this meeting, common courtesy said that the man at the very least should have provided him with a way to get inside so said meeting could actually take place, didn't it?

Deciding that it most certainly did, Harry smirked at the gargoyle and stated clearly, "Tell your master that Harry Potter is here to see him, as per his request."

Turning his back on the ugly thing, the teen walked over to the opposite wall and calmly cast a cushioning charm of the floor before he slid down the wall and settled down to wait. If Dumbledore was that eager to see him, the he could bloody well open the bloody door to let him in.

ooOoo

"Harry, is there a problem?"

Looking up from his text book, Harry stared blankly at the Headmaster standing in the doorway before returning to the here and now. Putting the book away, Harry made a show of moving smoothly to his feet. "Oh, no sir, there are no problems that I am aware of."

"Then why didn't you come inside?" Dumbledore asked, looking at his most important student with a slightly confused frown, not understanding this weird behaviour in the least.

Biting back a smirk, Harry regretted not checking the time before settling down to wait. It would have been amusing to know just how long Dumbledore waited before coming to fetch him.

"You forgot to give me the password," Harry replied calmly. Picking up his book bag he looked at the Headmaster expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the way so he could pass.

"You waited out here because you didn't know the password? Why in Merlin's name didn't you try and guess it, child? You always have in the past," Albus said, perplex.

Harry shrugged, already tiring of this game. "That was then and now is now. Then I was awed that you wanted to speak to me. I guess the novelty wears off after a while. So... did you wish to speak to me or not? I _am_ missing class, you know."

"Yes, yes, and that is exactly the reason why I wished to speak with you. Shall we?" Albus asked, regaining his equilibrium and finally moving out of the way.

Heading back up the stairs, the aged wizard couldn't help but wonder what could have happened to Harry to cause the teen to act so cold and distant towards him. Add the fact that it was extremely unlike him to skip class like that, and they were faced with an unknown and most unfortunate situation.

Settling into his comfortable chair, Albus looked expectantly at his student after the obligatory offer of tea and lemon drops. "Now then, my dear boy, would you care to tell me where you were all day yesterday? And what you were doing?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry settled deeper into the red and gold monstrosity situated before the Headmaster's desk. "I spent the day in solitude, sir. I apologise for missing my classes, but I am positive that I will have little difficulty catching up with the missed work."

"Why would you do such a thing? Surely you are aware by now just how important your classes are?" Albus asked, trying to catch the boy's eyes so he could find out just what was going on in his mind.

Glaring at his knees, Harry bit back a snort. If it was such a catastrophe missing a few classes, then why was he here, missing even more class time? Why hadn't Dumbledore waited until lunch, or until he had a free period? Or, and here was a shocker, why not wait until classes was done with for the day? And if it was such an academic disaster, then why wasn't McGonagall here to help ream him out? He had, after all, missed one of her classes yesterday. No this smelled like more of Dumbledore's manipulations. Merlin and his beard, would the old man never stop meddling in Harry's life?

"I didn't feel like attending classes yesterday," Harry finally retorted once he felt as if he had his emotions under some control. No matter how satisfying it would feel, he probably shouldn't demolish the Headmaster's office - again.

"You didn't feel like... Harry, skipping classes is a serious offence. I will need a better reason from you than a flippant 'I didn't feel like it'," Albus said sternly, looking at Harry from over his glasses, waiting patiently for the boy to look at him so that he could snare his gaze and enter his mind.

Feeling his temper start to boil, Harry looked up briefly to glare at the old man before looking away, hoping to forestall a magical eruption, unwittingly preventing Dumbledore from performing Legilimens on him.

"Well excuse me for finding yesterday difficult!" Harry snapped, suddenly feeling highly insulted. "Has the entire bloody world forgotten what day yesterday was? Don't they realise just what yesterday means to me?!"

Albus frowned, trying to understand what the boy was feeling. This rebellion was coming from out of the blue and Dumbledore felt completely blindsided by it. "I'm afraid that I do not understand, my boy. Yesterday was Halloween, a day of celebration. You have never had any difficulties with this holiday in the past. Why is this year different?"

Trying to hide a sneer, Harry made a face of disgust. "So even you have forgotten," he muttered in a harsh whisper.

"Forgotten what, my boy?" Albus asked gently, waiting with hidden impatience for the teen to confide in him. Merlin, how he detested teenage angst. It was just about the only thing he agreed with Severus about.

Hard and angry eyes that seemed to smoulder with power and magic looked into twinkling blue ones. "I thought better of you, sir, but it would seem that you have forgotten them as well."

Squaring his shoulders, holing his head up proudly, Harry made his point with a ringing voice. "Well, sir, you wanted to know what I was doing yesterday? I was paying my respect to my parents. Remember them, Headmaster? James and Lily Potter? Trusted friends of yours, weren't they? And yet you, like everyone else, have forgotten that they bloody _died_ on Halloween, fifteen years ago.

"And for your information, I have _never_ enjoyed Halloween. Something bad always happens on that day," the black haired teen added with a snarl. "My parents were murdered, the troll, the re-opening of the Chamber of Secret, the attack on the fat lady, the Goblet of Fire... need I go on? It is a wonder I bother to get out of bed on that day anymore."

"My dear boy, I had no idea..." Albus said, stricken, having no idea the teen felt this way.

Harry huffed, not appeased with the Headmaster's inadequate words.

"But you always attended the Feast..." Albus tried a second time, earning a glare filled with such scorn it rocked the aged wizard to his very soul.

"As if Ron would have allowed me to miss it," Harry replied with a snort. "Or you for that matter. You always make it abundantly clear that the Feast is mandatory and I simply didn't feel like dealing with the hassle should I skip. So, yes, I put on a happy face, pretending to have a good time. I didn't do it willingly, or happily, but I did it not wanting to rock the boat.

"This year it simply wasn't worth the effort. I wasn't about shame my parents' memory by attending a bloody _masquerade_ _ball_," Harry added, spitting out the words masquerade ball as if they tasted bad on his tongue.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Albus asked softly, wondering how matters had gone so wrong. After all, it was for Harry's sake he had arranged the ball, wanting to give the boy a chance to socialise with his peer and have a good time away from lessons, homework... and the war.

Apparently, he had badly miscalculated the child's thoughts and feelings on this matter.

Harry gave the Headmaster an incredulous look. "Did you see the reaction the other students had on your announcement? Especially the girls? They would have murdered me if I had dared to vent my true feelings on their 'fun'. Even Hermione lost her head over the ball and spent hours alternating between gushing and agonising about what she and Ron should dress up as, and what kind of charm work would be needed for the costumes. No, I was not about to have the entire school turn on me again, thank you very much. Thrice is more than enough. Actually, I think it is four times the school has turned on me..." Harry trailed thoughtfully.

Clearing his throat, Albus did his best to suppress the more... unpleasant aspects of Harry's schooling. The dear boy had experienced more hardships than he had wished for, and he refused to contemplate his own hand in those adversities.

In an attempt to regain the high ground, the Headmaster adopted a stern look and said, "I quite understand, my boy, how attending the ball might have felt like a betrayal against your parents' sacrifice, but you cannot allow the past to rule you, my boy. You cannot allow past tragedies to prevent you from having fun today. If you do that, then Voldemort has scored a victory against you, and we can't have that."

Harry bit back another sneer, not impressed with Dumbledore's words. Voldemort already had 'scored a victory' against him. In truth, the mad man had scored several such victories, and Harry doubted that refusing to attend a ball he had no interest it would cause Voldemort to 'score' again.

"Then there is the matter of your missed classes-" Dumbledore continued sternly, his mind spinning wildly with thoughts of damage control, completely missing his student's scorn.

"I'm not going to apologise," Harry immediately cut the Headmaster off, wanting to nip that idea in the bud. "Besides it isn't as if I've made it a habit of skipping classes."

Dumbledore gave Harry a stern look from over his glasses. "Perhaps not your regular classes, but there is the business with your Occlumency lessons last year. You didn't exactly put an effort into your lessons with Severus, did you, my dear boy?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry managed, barely, from making a snide remark, knowing full well that Dumbledore wouldn't listen. The aged wizard _never_ listened to Harry. Not when it _mattered_. Not when it was _important_.

Albus bit back a sigh, despairing over Harry's teenage angst and drama. He had been willing to be amiable and gracious, giving the boy some leeway considering his strong feelings of grief he apparently still was feeling. It was quite possible that the death of Sirius had amplified the boy's feelings of loss.

But Harry's feelings of grief weren't important. They were unfortunate, yes, but in the grand scheme of things, they weren't _important_. What _was_ important was to head off the boy's attempt at teenage rebellion. Harry was too imperative to the war effort to allow him to believe that he could act as he pleased. Harry was too vital as a focal point for the Light to allow him to skulk off and sulk when the mood struck.

To be a successful leader, Harry needed to learn to put his feelings aside and to always put the need of the greater good first. Clearly, the boy hadn't matured enough to realise this on his own so it fell to Dumbledore to make sure that point was made.

Besides, he couldn't allow Harry to think that he could simply ignore Albus' council and when he felt like it. There was a second, hidden reason as to why the ball was announced this year. Harry needed a spouse, someone to stand by him and keep him grounded in the Light. Young Ginevra was the perfect bride for the Boy Who Lived and it was time the boy began to think of his future. The two of them going together to the ball would have sent a strong signal to those scheming that Harry Potter was off the marriage mart, but now all those plans were ruined and for what? For grief over people Harry didn't even remember? No, this... defiance could not be allowed to continue.

Having made up his mind, Dumbledore announced his verdict. "I can understand that yesterday was difficult for you, Harry my boy, but that does not mean that I can condone you skipping your classed. As I said, we cannot allow Voldemort stopping us from living our lives. Let's see... Ah yes, forty points from Gryffindor and four detentions with Professor Snape, starting tonight at eight, that is a reasonable punishment, don't you agree?"

Biting back yet another snort it was all Harry could do not to laugh the old man right in the face. As if the Headmaster cared one iota about him, or about his thoughts and feelings. It always was my way or the highway with the Headmaster; only with Dumbledore you didn't even have the option of the highway, leaving you with nothing but my way. And this was the guy that insisted that our choices defined who we are?

_Hypocritical old bastard_, Harry thought but out loud all he said was, "Very well, sir. Is there anything else?"

"No, not that I am aware off. Unless there is anything else you wish to get off your chest at this time? Any other concerns about the war, perhaps? Or about our schoolwork?" Albus asked, not about to bring up James and Lily again. He was not about to indulge the boy on that matter.

"No, I'm good, sir," Harry replied easily, getting to his feet eagerly, only too happy to escape the Headmaster's office.

Frowning in displeasure, Albus chose not to reprimand the teen on his lack of respect at this time. But he would be having a word with Severus, subtly letting the man know he had free hands changing the boy's attitude. "Very well, you are free to go then. Just remember, if you change your mind, my office is always open to you."

Sitting back in his chair, Dumbledore watched as Harry all but fled the room, showing nothing but eagerness to get away, never looking back even once.

Something had changed. Something had most definitely changed in the Boy Who Lived, but for the life of him, Albus couldn't figure out what. Replaying the confrontation in his mind, the aged wizard tried to pinpoint just what was different but couldn't find anything explicit he could put his finger on.

There was a change of attitude. And it would seem that Harry no longer looked up to him and regarded him as a grandfather, which, admittedly, was worrisome, yet all that could be accounted by the teenage rebellion that Harry apparently was indulging.

Sighing deeply, Albus regretfully pushed the matter from his mind for now. He would simply have to take a wait and see attitude with Harry. Once he realised that his new attitude would not be acknowledged or indulged, the boy should come to his senses quickly. Severus should be happy to help make the boy realise the futility of his resistance as well.

Harry was the only one who could defeat Tom Riddle, but that didn't mean that he could be allowed to do as he pleased. Like it or not, the Boy Who Lived was a public figure, not to mention an important symbol of the Light, and Albus had no intentions of losing his grip on that symbol. The final confrontation between Light and Dark could not be left to chance.

Or to the emotions of a sixteen year old boy.


	4. The Final Straw

_The Final Straw_

"Harry James Potter how could you?! Where have you been? You knew very well that I was counting on us attending the ball together. How could you stand me up like that? Well?! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Ginny Weasley's strident voice rang across the Great Hall, making most of those who heard it cringe and feel immensely grateful that she wasn't angry with them. The redhead's temper was becoming just as legendary as her brother's, not to mention that most feared her Bat-bogey hexes.

Anticipating the drama, the entire room grew silent as the student body turned to watch as the Boy Who Lived cowed before the redhead, and bet was quietly made on how long the boy would last before caving and on what Ginny would force him to do to make up the slight against her.

Many were those who wore smug smirks, convinced as they were that, finally, Harry Potter had met his match. In fact, there were several betting pools circulating among the students, where bets were placed on such varied subjects a when the two were going to declare they were an item; when and where their first snog would take place; and how long Potter would last before a betrothal was announced.

No one, not even the teachers, were prepared for the reaction Ginny's demand received.

"By the Founders, the stars, and Merlin's teeth too," Harry exploded, slamming his palm down onto the table top, narrowly missing sending a forkful of food into Ron's lap. "What is _wrong_ with you? I've tried being polite. I've tried being nice. Hell, I even tried being sensitive, but you just don't want to get it, do you? We are _not_ an item, Ginevra Weasley, get that fact through that thick skull of yours.

"I am not in love with you. I do not have a crush on you. And I do not fancy you whatsoever. No matter how much you nag at me, no matter how much you command me, we will _never_ become romantically involved so stop bloody pestering me!" Harry shouted, for once not caring that he was making a scene, or that practically the entire school was staring at him as if he had lost his bloody mind.

"You... you... how can you do this to me?!" Ginny wailed, bursting into tears and burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking alarmingly as she sobbed.

Harry was not impressed and made this abundantly clear. "'How can you do this to me?'" he parroted, folding his arms aggressively across his chest. "How can _you_ do this to _me_? I have made my disinterest in you perfectly clear and yet you continued to hound me, as if you were trying to wear my resistance down or something. No means no, you should be old enough to know that by now, Ginevra, or has your family spoilt you so much that you cannot accept a rejection?"

"Stop being so mean to her, she did nothing to you but want to be your girlfriend. And leave my family out of this!" Ron shouted, finally jumping to his feet and moving over to his sister, enfolding her in a supportive hug while glaring daggers at his best friend.

Harry simply arched his eyebrows. "And what if I don't want Ginevra to be my girlfriend? As her brother, shouldn't you be encouraging her to find someone who loves and cares for her? Why are you so insistent in pushing the two of us together? Could it be that you wish to make sure that it is _your_ sister who snags the Boy Who Lived, Ron? Is that what all this is about?" Harry asked with a sneer, voicing his inner suspicion out loud for the first time ever. Merlin, but it felt _good_ to finally get this out in the open. He really should have done this ages ago.

Ron froze, then he glared angrily at Harry. "That was a low blow," he stated quietly. "Ginny loves you, Merlin knows why. I want her to be happy, so of course I've been trying to make you come to your senses. If you had had a _real_ family, you'd know that this is something an older brother does for his sister," he added with an ugly sneer of his own.

Harry snorted, not impressed. "So much for being welcomed into the Weasley family, eh, Ron? I guess you never truly considered me family, did you? If you had, then you would have understood, not to mention accepted, that I look upon Ginevra as a younger _sister_, not as girlfriend material. Good to know where we stand, mate, I'm really glad we had this conversation."

Dropping the jovial attitude he somehow had adopted in the middle of his little rant, Harry took a threatening step forward, allowing the rage he was struggling with to show in his green eyes as he glared at his former best friend. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you, Ronald. No matter how much she sobs, no matter how much she wails, no matter how much you shout and curse my name, I will never, ever, date Ginevra Weasley. So. Stop. Bugging. Me. To. Trust me, I am not about to change my mind anytime this century and should I suddenly develop feelings other than loathing for that... girl I will immediately submit myself to St Mungo's and demand that they check me over for love potions."

The two boys glared at each other, silently willing the other to be the first one to give in, submitting to the other's will. Their staring contest was rudely interrupted by Ginny who suddenly emerged from Ron's shoulder, shouting, "Are you trying to tell me that you are _gay_?!" Giving Harry an incredulous look.

Shaking his head, Harry couldn't help but chuckle, although there was no mirth behind the sound. "Talk about having an inflated ego. Man, I never thought I would end up quoting Snape, but grow the hell up, Weasley, the world doesn't revolve around you!

"I don't fancy you, so of course that must mean that I am gay. Is that _really_ what you're thinking? And you can't understand why I don't want to date you? Why would I want to spend time with someone as selfish and self-centred as you? Why should I spend my life with an egotistical little girl like you, Ginevra? Why would I wish to condemn myself to that kind of hell?" Harry asked, arching his eyebrows challengingly.

"My name is Ginny," Ginny ground out through gritted teeth.

"No it isn't. Your given name is Ginevra; only your friends and family calls you Ginny. At the moment I don't feel like being your friend, and you've made it abundantly clear that you do not consider me family, so why should I call you by your pet name?" Harry asked, keeping the challenging look on his face.

"Harry..." Ginny said imploringly, holding out a hand beseechingly.

"Yes, Ginevra?" Harry retorted forbiddingly.

"Don't be like this!" Ginny snapped, her tears drying up as she began to lose her temper for a second time.

"Be like what? Honest with my emotions? Honest with my feelings? Honest in my dislike of you and the way you are trying to shame me into being your boyfriend?" Harry asked coolly.

Stepping closer, the teen reached out and stroke a wet cheek with his fingertips. "Let me tell you a little secret, Ginevra, no one likes a woman who uses her tears to get her own way. It is even more unattractive when such methods are employed by little girls."

Snarling furiously, Ginny slapped Harry's fingers away, shouting, "I'm not a little girl!"

"But you do not deny that you are using your tears to try and bend me to your will," Harry immediately shot back with a smirk. "Dry your tears, Ginevra, they hold no sway on me. Like I said, I do not fancy you and after today I never will. Find someone else to worship at your feet, because I will never be your lapdog. In fact, I will never be _anyone's_ lapdog."

Turning away, Harry went back to where his book bag was. Bending down he picked it up and hoisted the strap onto his shoulder. "Oh, by the way, to answer your question, I don't care whether I am gay or not. I like to think that I am man enough that gender doesn't matter to me. For that matter, why should gender be important? Isn't it more imperative what is inside a person's heart?"

With those parting words Harry left the Great Hall, his appetite gone yet he felt so elated he could walk on air. Not even the whispers coming from a hundred throats could put a damper on his good mood.

Because he'd done it.

By Merlin, he had actually done it.

He had told Ginny off and it felt bloody marvellous. Maybe now she would take the hint and leave him alone.

Considering that thought, Harry was forced to shake his head with a rueful smile. No, Ginny would most certainly not take the hint, and neither would Ron, probably, but at least the rest of the school knew his feelings on the matter now, and hopefully the student body's amusement would curve the redheads' attempts to browbeat him into submission.

ooOoo

The two redheads in question were left standing in stunned silence, watching as Harry walked away from them without as much as a backward glance.

"How could he do this to me?" Ginny asked bewildered, swiping ineffectually at the tears wetting her cheeks. "How could he be so cruel, so, so... _unfeeling_?" she asked the air, not really expecting an answer as she allowed Ron to prod and push her towards the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe he treated you like that because that is how you've been treating _him_?" Neville asked, causing quite a few heads to turn and stare at him in shock. No one had expected this shy Gryffindor to come to Harry Potter's defence.

"Neville? You too?" Ron asked incredulous, giving his dorm mate a wounded look as he gently pushed Ginny into an empty seat.

Neville merely shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just telling it as I'm seeing it, Ron. Ginny has been hounding Harry since the start of this term. Harry has done everything he could think of to show his disinterest, and yet your sister continued to pursue him, refusing to take no for an answer. And you find it strange that he finally blew up and told her off? If it had been me, I'd have done it weeks ago," Neville told him truthfully.

"Oh, and for the record? It is kind of creepy to watch a fifteen year old girl chase after a wizard the way Ginny has," Neville added, causing more than one body to choke on their food.

Ron narrowed his eyes in warning. "Careful there, Nev, this is my sister you are talking about. I will not have you cast slurs on her good name."

Neville snorted into his teacup. "And I'm talking about your best friend. True, you must find yourself in a difficult situation, stuck in the middle the way you are, but to disregard Harry's feelings so completely... while standing back and doing nothing while Ginny makes a complete fool of her self...

"I have to side with Harry here, mate, just what _are_ your motives for supporting Ginny the way you are? Netting the Boy Who Lived would be a coup d'état, wouldn't you agree? The Weasleys would never again be looked down upon with Harry Potter for a son-in-law, correct?"

"I don't want Harry because he is Harry Potter!" Ginny protested vehemently, her voice shrilly with outrage as she finally came out of her stupor.

"Then why do you hunt him?" Neville asked, a challenging gleam in his usually calm eyes.

"I'm not _hunting_ him," Ginny protested in annoyance. "I _love_ him, is that so difficult to understand?"

"Why?" Neville asked once more, the challenge still there in both his eyes and in his voice.

"What do you mean why?" Ginny asked, somewhat taken back by Neville's unusual attitude. "Why not? What isn't there to love about Harry? He is funny and smart, not that he tends to show that off, and he makes me feel safe, and protected," Ginny rattled off smartly, gaining momentum and would have continued listing her true loves attributes but was interrupted by a snort of amusement, and it wasn't coming from Neville.

"Could you make that sound any more rehearsed, Gin? I'm sorry, but I have to side with Nev on this, you fancy Harry because he is the Boy Who Lived. Not that I blame you, who wouldn't go for someone like him? But you should have the grace to admit defeat when your attempt at gold digging is being called upon," Dean said, shaking his head pityingly.

"I'm not a gold digger!" Ginny cried out angrily, not realising that her shrill voice easily carried across the Great Hall.

Dean merely shrugged his shoulders, turning back to his food. "No? I say you are," he replied uncaringly, reaching for his goblet with pumpkin juice.

"I'm _not_! Ron, do something," Ginny cried, poking her brother hard when it became clear that he was too busy stuffing his face to defend her honour.

"Everyone knows that you aren't a gold digger, Ginny," Ron replied loyally, shovelling another forkful of food into his mouth.

"Ron!" Ginny cried in outrage, finding her brother's support to be severely lacking.

"What? Lunch is almost over and I'm bloody starving. Can't this wait until later?" Ron complained, shovelling some more food into his mouth without bothering to finish chewing the previous load.

"Is your stomach all you can think about? I'm being deadly insulted here, and all you can think about is stuffing that empty pit you call a stomach? I can't believe you," Ginny shouted before storming out of the Great Hall in a huff.

"Mental. They both are completely off their rock," Ron said sadly, shaking his head in exasperation before redoubling his efforts to gobble up as much food as possible before classes resumed.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville shared a glance and rolled their eyes at the oblivious redhead. The atmosphere in the sixth year dorms would be tense until this storm blew over. Somehow, the three teens didn't think that Harry would be the one to fold first.

Sighing, they got up to head off for class, each secretly wondering why Hermione hadn't spoken up during the confrontation.

ooOoo

The next few days things were indeed tense. Ginny would start berating Harry every time she set eyes on him. To the onlookers it looked like she thought she could wear him down into agreeing to date her if she only nagged him enough.

Maybe this could have worked in the past, but Harry Potter seemed to play by new rules these days. Because, unlike in past years, the green eyed teen didn't look uncomfortable being in the centre of attention; he did not glance furtively around, looking for a way to escape the unwanted confrontations. He did not try to reason with Ginny, or beseech her to leave him alone. He didn't even try to get her to lower her voice as she berated him.

On the contrary, this new Harry Potter fought back. And he did not hold back his punches, telling her exactly what he thought of her attempts to manipulate him, often ending up doing so at the top of his voice, seemingly not caring who heard him.

This caused Ron to join in the fray, naturally, dead set on defending his sister's honour and her actions, often doing so at the top of _his_ voice, his hot temper preventing him from acting in a calm and cool manner.

Understandably, the friendship the two boys had enjoyed for the past five years did not survive this new strain and it didn't take long before it died an abrupt yet painful death.

Hermione watched them fight with worried eyes and wringing hands. In the beginning she often tried to mediate between them, trying to make the three of them see reason, but for once none of the combatants listened to her. Perhaps she would have had more success if she hadn't inadvertently ended up taking Ginny's side more often than not in her attempts to parley for peace between her friends.

The situation between the three grew so hostile that they ended up in McGonagall's office where their Head of House proceeded to give them a stern dressing down, telling them off on their immature behaviour, giving the four of them detentions in an attempt to curb their tempers.

The intervention met with some success, because after McGonagall's lecture, Harry acted as if neither Ron nor Ginny existed. No matter what the redheads said, no matter what threats were shouted, Harry acted as if they weren't standing there, hollering things at his face.

This, of course, made Ron and Ginny look extremely foolish, especially since they didn't take care where they berated Harry, doing so wherever they came across him. Maybe, just maybe, if they had kept their behaviour to the security of the Gryffindor common room they could have kept their reputation somewhat intact, but since they didn't, it didn't take long before the entire school sided with Harry, finding immense pleasure in the childish antics of the two youngest Weasleys.

Draco Malfoy in particular had a field day insulting them at every turn, causing the feud between the Weasleys and the Malfoys to go through the roof, eagerly egged on by the student body. This was, after all, the most fun they had had in years. Besides, the longer they could keep the youngest Weasley from claiming the Boy Who Lived, the more chance did they have to net the sought-after bachelor.

Harry couldn't have cared less about the whole thing. All he wanted was to focus on his classes and for the entire situation to simply go away. He did act civil towards Hermione at first, until she demanded one time too many that he should forgive Ron for his attitude. But the final straw came when Hermione in exasperation shouted at him to just go out on one date with Ginny to show her that they wouldn't have a future as a couple.

Harry merely gave her a look so filled with disgusted loathing it haunted Hermione's sleep for years afterward before walking off, ending their friendship then and there.

Hermione did try and talk some sense into Harry afterwards, but soon gave up, focusing on soothing the redheads' ruffled feathers instead. Until Ron and Ginny lost Gryffindor two hundred points in three days, then she was no longer as understanding, telling them that loudly in the middle of the Great Hall to the student's amusement. The teachers were less amused resulting in Gryffindor losing another twenty points.

Ron wouldn't speak to her after that, and Hermione was only too happy to give him a cold shoulder right back. For three weeks an icy disdain was kept between them, and it would probably have gone on for quite a while longer if not for the fact that Ron's grades began to suffer now that he no longer had Hermione's notes to aid him with his homework. It didn't exactly help that no one else was willing to help him either, forcing him to flounder on alone for the first time since that Halloween.

Hermione held out another week before giving in, agreeing to make up with Ron. She did love him after all, not to mention that she had no intentions of seeing him fail his classes, or worse, getting suspended for handing in incomplete homework assignments time and again.

Harry just snorted at the whole thing while shaking his head in disgust at their behaviour, but otherwise did not acknowledge his former friends. No matter what Ron said or did, Harry had no intentions of ever forgiving him. Who needed narrow-minded friends like that anyway? Not him, that was for sure, and he sent up a silent prayer almost daily in thanks for finding Salazar's potion. True, his current situation was not fun, but the freedom he gained from being able to tell his friends, well, former friends, just what he thought of their behaviour was worth more than all the gold in his trust vault.

So Harry passed his days focusing on his classes, spending his free time doing research in the library. It didn't take long before his grades began to improve most impressively. Within a month he even began to surpass Hermione, knocking her down to the number two spot in both Charms and Transfigurations.

Hermione, naturally, could not tolerate such a slight and began to nag him to find out how he had done it, even going so far as to allude that he had to have meddled with some Dark ritual to get better grades than her.

Harry froze in outrage, then proceeded to inform her just what he thought of her accusations, her bossy mind-set, and what, exactly, she could do with her know-it-all attitude, insufferable manners, and behaviour.

Understandably, Hermione did not take his dressing down lying down and proceeded to inform him of what _she_ thought of _his_ new attitude and behaviour.

The argument between them soon became a shouting match that quickly escalated into a row that threatened to bring down the Gryffindor tower due to the magic crackling in the air, caused by their powerful emotional discharge.

It was after that fight, where Harry had told the Muggleborn off on her insufferable habit of bossing everyone around, and no, he had not applied for another mother, thank you very much, causing Hermione to burst into tears and hide out in her dorm for the next three days, that the teachers decided it was high time they stepped in and took charge of the entire mess.

This was not the meek and obedient Harry Potter they were used to dealing with, and Dark Art rituals, spells, and potions was what immediately sprung into everyone's mind. Someone had managed, not to mention dared, to try and influence their hero, their champion for the Light, and something had to be done, immediately.

And so Dumbledore called for a meeting among special Order of the Phoenix members and a plan of attack was formed. And this was why on the following Friday night, one Remus Lupin sneaked inside Hogwarts and into the sixth year male dorm in the Gryffindor tower. A quick stupefy ensured that Harry would not wake up and ruin everything, and then it was just a matter of activating the special Portkey the Headmaster had provided him with, and the plan was set in motion.


	5. Intervention

_Intervention_

Slowly, and most reluctantly, Harry regained consciousness and immediately whished that he hadn't. His head was pounding and his stomach was extremely unhappy with him, churning in a most alarming manner.

Forcing his eyes open with a groan, the teen took a quick look around, hoping to find a clue as to where he was and what was going on. When his oversensitive eyes landed on what looked like half the bloody Order of the Phoenix gathered in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Harry closed his eyes with a pained moan and allowed his head to drop. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Harry, my dear boy, can you hear me?" A far too cheerful voiced asked far too close to his ears for comfort and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he could get away with murdering the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

True, this _was_ Albus Dumbledore... but then again, it _would_ be in self-defence. The one problem Harry saw with his murder plan was whether he could convince Fudge that the teen had been in danger of dying of overcheerfullness or not. It shouldn't be too difficult; the man _was_ an idiot after all, not to mention that Fudge held no love for aged wizard these days.

Trouble was he had very little love for Harry Potter either. Thinking the matter over carefully, Harry regrettably reached the conclusion that Fudge loved him less then Dumbledore, meaning that the Minister of Magic probably would just chuck Harry into Azkaban, throwing away the key, instead of shaking his hand and offer him an Order of Merlin in thanks for dealing with the menace to society that was Albus Dumbledore. Bummer.

"Harry dear, can you hear me?" A new voice asked in a motherly manner, and it took Harry a moment to recognise that it belonged to Mrs Weasley, the realisation causing him to groan in pain. Swell, it wasn't as if he hadn't had enough of dealing with stubborn redheads to last him a lifetime already, now he had to deal with Mrs Weasley too? What had he done in a previous life that was so bad that he was being punished so in this one? He was a good guy, wasn't he? Harry thought so, but it would appear that not everyone agreed with him. Then again, when was anyone ever on his side?

"Cub, can you hear me? How do you feel? Harry? Could you please open your eyes for me?" someone asked and before he could figure out who this speaker was, someone's fingers suddenly began to card through his hair, causing Harry to jump.

Then he grew angry. Jerking his head away from those unwelcome fingers, Harry opened his eyes just enough to see, sending a certain werewolf an angry glare. "Oh, I'm feeling peachy," he retorted sarcastically. "I feel like I just went through the third task again, thank you so much for asking.

"But there truly is no need for you to act as if you care, is there, since you know what happened to me and I don't. So what did happen? Voldemort induced vision? Death Eater attack? Or did Dobby try to 'save' my life again?" Harry asked with pretended cheer, struggling to keep his emotions in control. He had no idea what had happened, but he sure as hell knew that the ones in the room was responsible. Would they be honourable enough to admit their wrongdoings? Or would they just leave him in the dark as always?

Figuring he had nothing to lose, especially when it became abundantly clear that no one was willing to answer his questions; instead the Order members just stood there, hawing and hemming, looking everywhere but at him, Harry added in a hard voice, "Let me guess, something happened, but you aren't going to tell me. For my own good, of course. Since all of you are so eager to protect and coddle me. I mean, why the hell should I know what is going on with my own life? After all, I am but a child who can't look after himself, aren't I?"

"Now, now, Harry, there is no need for sarcasm. Nothing bad has been done to you, on the contrary I would say," Dumbledore said cheerfully, causing Harry to clench his teeth and try to come up with ways to 'accidentally' kill a person that wouldn't automatically land him in Azkaban.

"And just what, exactly, is _that_ supposed to mean?" Harry asked sugary sweet once he'd managed to unclench his jaw, sending Dumbledore a scathing look while he was at it. Perhaps if he tried hard enough he could actually get a murderous glare to work?

"Harry, there is no need for you to take out your irritation on Albus, he was just trying to help you," Remus chided gently, doing nothing to resolve the tension in the room. All he managed to accomplish was for Harry to turn his ire on the werewolf instead.

"Help me? _Help me_, Remus? Help me how? With what? Are you even going to bother to try and answer me or are you just going to pat me on the head and sprout off a few platitudes before sending me back to Hogwarts? That is how you usually deal with situations involving me, isn't it?" Harry asked with a sneer worthy of Severus Snape himself.

"Show some respect, cub," Remus admonished, taking a step back in alarm as a look of absolute rage appeared on the teen's face.

"Show some respect, Remus? Show some respect?!" Harry all but spat at his father's friend. "Why the hell should I show you respect when you can't be bothered to show me any? Are you going to tell me what you did to me? Think carefully before you answer, because if you treat me like a child one more time, I will leave, and I will not be coming back, is that clear, Lupin?"

"Calm down, Harry, there is no reason for alarm. Or to sprout off meaningless threats. I apologise for not giving you any warning, but we all felt this was for the best," Albus waffled, giving the fuming teen a benevolent smile.

Harry smiled toothily at Dumbledore, sending a shiver of dread down the aged wizard's spine. "Who said my threat was meaningless? I can assure you that I meant every word I said. Not that you cared. You never care about what I say. Or think. Or feel. As long as I am there to do your dirty work for you. Will you still be twinkling your eyes when I walk away from you? I find myself most eager to find out, are you?" Harry asked challengingly.

Sighing sadly, Albus plopped a lemon drop into his mouth. It would seem that the latest ritual had been ineffective. Just like the previous ones. It would seem they would have to do it at least one more time.

"All right, everyone, I realise that you are tired, but it would seem that Harry is still under the influence of the magic done to him. Do not fear, I am positive that one more time is all it will take to free him," he added, lacing his words with an optimism he did not feel.

"Okay, time out, just what the bloody hell is going on here?" Harry demanded in outrage, ignoring the many 'Mind your language' coming his way. "Why am I here at Headquarters? Why am I tied to a chair, feeling as if I've been testing several of Neville's potions? What spell have you been casting on me, and who the hell gave you the right to do so?" Harry all but shouted, not liking at all how weak and vulnerable he felt. Being restricted while surrounded by hostiles was never a good thing, Dudley and his gang had taught him that the hard way. Add to that the fact that he was feeling extremely tired and ill and Harry just knew that this - whatever the hell this was – was going to end very badly. For him.

"Now, now, Harry, I can understand that you are feeling somewhat alarmed, but I can assure you that you are not in any danger. It would seem that you have been cursed in some manner and we are simply attempting to correct that," Albus said gently, bestowing upon the teen another benevolent smile, hoping to keep the youth calm and tranquil.

They could ill afford having Harry's magic going out of control – again. The last time that happened, the entire second floor had been destroyed, barely leaving the walls standing once the dust had settled. Molly would murder him if the same thing happened to the kitchen. Perhaps it would be best to knock him unconscious before trying the ritual again? Merlin knew what would happen if Harry tried to fight them considering the damage he had managed to do while out cold. Albus truly dreaded to find out what would happen if Harry tried to actively fight them while they did the ritual; the probability was high that more than inanimate objects would be targeted by his magic.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry snarled, struggling to get free of the ropes tying him to the chair. "What the hell did I do that justifies you kidnapping my arse and subjecting me to whatever madness you've come up with this time?"

"My dear boy, we did not kidnap you," Dumbledore protested, looking wounded to the quick, but Harry didn't allow him to finish.

"No? What would you call it then? I sure as hell don't remember getting an invitation for this delightful little get together. And I sure as hell don't remember coming here under my own power, so how, exactly, would you describe my arrival here?" Harry asked bitingly, performing a perfect Snape sneer, proving that he had indeed been paying attention in his Potions class, perhaps just not in the way he was supposed to.

"Harry, as soon as you have calmed down and are actually willing to listen to us, we will tell you what is going on," Remus said with surprising authority. He felt torn, this was his cub sitting there, spitting and snarling in rage, but it was his Alpha that Harry was attacking, causing the wolf inside Remus to feel conflicted as to where his first loyalty lay.

Harry could only stare incredulously at Remus, not believing that the werewolf actually had had the gall to say that to him. Forcing himself to close his eyes, Harry breathed deeply in an attempt to calm himself. Lupin did have one point, he was getting nowhere with the Order. As bloody usual no one was willing to tell him anything. Well, two could play at that game. He would play along, for now, but the moment he got a chance to get free he would take it, consequences be damned. And he had meant it when he said he would walk away. They wanted a hero? Then they could bloody well look elsewhere, he was through being their pawn.

"Very well, I am calm now, so why don't you tell me why you have me tied to a chair in my departed godfather's kitchen?" Harry asked with forced composure.

Albus regarded him carefully from over his glasses. Seeing that Harry was indeed calm, for the moment, Albus figured that he could afford to give the boy a few answers. If he knew what they were doing for him it would, hopefully, instil a sense of gratefulness in the child.

"Harry, you probably haven't noticed that there has been something... wrong with you, but for the past few weeks you have been acting most disturbingly. You have quarrelled with both Ron and Hermione, not to mention that you have acted most harshly towards young Ginny. When you showed no signs of snapping out of your behaviour we felt it was for the best to remove you from Hogwarts and make sure that you aren't under the influence of some Dark spell or potion," Albus explained grandly, waiting expectantly for some kind of sign of gratitude.

Faced with that kind of logic, all Harry could do was stare stupidly, his jaw hanging open in his shock. Snapping his mouth close with a snap, he asked in a strangled voice, "Is that why I'm feeling like crap?" having no idea how to deal with this unexpected curveball. He had expected for Dumbledore to react to his sudden change, but this... this he had not foreseen.

"That is an unfortunate side effect of the cleansing, I'm afraid," Albus replied with a sad smile, all but giving Harry a pat on the head while on the inside he was frowning at the lack of gratitude Harry was showing.

_If he is offering me a bloody lemon drop I'll take it and shove it someplace where the sun don't shine_, Harry thought viciously. Perhaps his intentions were written all over his face, or maybe the Headmaster picked it up through Legilimens, but Dumbledore aborted the move he'd been about to make and nimbly moved a few steps away from the still bound teen.

"Here's a shocking thought, but didn't it occur to any of you lot to simply _ask_ me why I was fighting with Ron and Hermione? I find it highly insulting that adults like you, who are supposed to be the last defence against Voldemort and his minions, couldn't be bothered to _ask_ before doing whatever it was that you did.

"But worse than that, you people are supposed to be on the side of the _Light_, for Merlin's sake. So what right do you have kidnapping me like this and performing, what did you call it? A cleansing ritual? By what right did you do that?

"And please, don't ever again question my intelligence by pretending you don't know what the strife between me and the Weasleys are. Then again, why should it surprise me that you are taking their side? What do my thoughts and feelings matter as long as the Weasley family gets what they want, eh? What does it matter to you that I would be forced into a loveless marriage if I were to marry Ginerva? You have never cared for me in the past, so why should you start now, eh? I suppose I shouldn't have expected more from you, but I actually did. Tell me, tell me to my face, how are your actions any different from Voldemort's and his Death Eaters?

"What" Harry added in response to the outraged gasps coming from practically everyone present. "You can't honestly think that your actions are any different from theirs, do you? They too are doing whatever the hell they feel like, not caring for the consequences of their victims. They kill, torture, and torment others whenever they feel like it. True, unlike the Death Eaters, you only target one person instead of large groups, but in the end, you both cause suffering, and for what?"

"Harry-"

"No! How bloody dare you punish me for daring to speak up for myself? How dare you try to punish me for daring to have an opinion of my own?" Harry all but snarled, twisting viciously against the ropes holding him immobilised, letting out a sigh of relief when the ropes disappeared, finally leaving him free to move. And move he did, exploding to his feet, taking several steps away from the chair he had begun to hate with every fibre in his being.

The Order of the Phoenix took a collective step backwards; several even went so far as to draw their wands, although they didn't quite go as far as to point them at the furious teen.

"Harry, we were worried about you. This isn't like you, can't you see that? We simply had to-" Remus began, only to be silenced by a look so filled with venomous contempt the werewolf actually took two steps backwards, suddenly feeling afraid of his cub.

"You simply had to what, Lupin? You simply had to change my mind? You simply had to ensure that I no longer dared to speak up for myself? You simply had to ensure that I went along with the Weasley plot? You simply had to make sure I became friends with Ron and Hermione again?" Harry asked, advancing menacingly on the hapless werewolf.

"You people disgust me," Harry sneered, making his feelings abundantly clear. "Who the hell do you think you are? The bloody Gestapo? What right do you have to dictate what I should think or feel? What right do you have to kidnap me and cast spells upon me without my knowledge or consent? What right do you, as warriors of the Light, have to subjugate the will of a minor?" Harry demanded, doing his level best to look everyone present in the eye, conveying just how unimpressed he was with their highhanded manners. It did amuse him to note that neither Mr nor Mrs Weasley were able to look him in the eyes. They didn't appear repentant, but they couldn't look at him.

"Harry, we only did what we thought were for the best. Your behaviour, in fact your entire attitude, has changed in a most alarming way. You pulled away from your friends, isolating yourself. We could not just sit back and watch as you alienated those you grew up with," Albus said, earning looks of awe and gratitude from the Order, with one notable exception, as he redirected Harry's attention to himself.

Harry snorted. "But I didn't," he said, his shark like smile covered in sugary sweetness.

"You didn't what?" Albus asked, perplexed and somewhat thrown off his stride.

"I didn't grow up with them. You saw to that by placing me with the Dursleys, surely you haven't forgotten that small fact, have you, Headmaster?" Harry asked, still smiling that disturbing smile that brought shivers to everyone's spine. "And I guess that is another item I need to ask about. What right do you have trying to dictate who my friends are?" Harry added, rubbing his wrist in annoyance.

"No, I haven't forgotten the Dursleys, Harry," Albus replied smoothly, unable to stop himself from giving the teen a disapproving look, he did not wish to add the Dursleys to an already explosive situation. "What I meant was that for the past five years, the Weasleys have treated you like a son, like a brother. You have been like family to them, all but adopting you, and therefore it distresses me greatly to see you so out of sorts with them. I would hate for you to lose the closeness you have always shared, especially if it happened due to some unfortunate influence you were not even aware of."

"So instead of approaching me with your concerns, you decided that kidnapping me and casting spells on me was the right thing to do. I... I lack words to express to you what I am thinking of you this very moment.

"Either you are not as omnipotent as you'd like us to believe, or, and this I find much more believable, you are so desperate for me to marry Ginevra, a girl who comes from a family that believes that the sun shines out of your arse, that you are willing to do anything as long as it will bend my neck and ensure I do my 'duty'. Don't think that I haven't noticed how you are sidestepping all of my questions. You keep waffling on how this is for the greater good and how sacrifices have to be made and blah, blah, blah.

"What really interests me is how big a hypocrite you are, sir. You keep telling me that it is our choices that show who we are. But if you truly believe this, then how is it that I am not allowed by make any choices that has not first been approved by you?" Harry mused, rubbing at his wrists that were tingling in a most annoying manner.

Ignoring the teen and his annoying need for answers, Albus turned toward the corner where a dark figure was standing, quietly observing everything that was happening. "Severus, how long before we can know for sure whether that last cleansing had any affect or not?"

Groaning, Harry shook his head in annoyance. "I should have known," he muttered darkly. "I should have known you would be skulking in a corner. This must be like an early Christmas gift for you, isn't that right, sir? A chance to hurt and torment the Boy Who Lived, and on the Headmaster's orders no less, I bet you jumped at the chance, didn't you?" Harry asked, a look of loathing on his face, making sure his voice carried to everyone in the room. He was not happy about this and he wanted everyone present to know that. Not that they cared about him and his feelings, but they should still know just what he felt about them. It would make his walking away so much sweeter.

Severus snorted and walked over to where the teen was standing. Contrary to what the teen believed, Severus was not happy about what the Order had done to the boy. As the resident expert of the Dark Arts, he had known all along that the boy wasn't influenced by them. All that had happened was that the boy had been driven too far and had finally snapped, fighting back against those who tried to control his life. But Albus hadn't wanted to see it. Didn't want to admit that Harry Potter was not free to live his own life as he saw fit. Hence this travesty. It would not end well, something else he had informed Dumbledore of. Not that the man had listened, but he had been warned.

Harry watched with interest when Snape drew his wand and began to cast several complex spells. At least they sounded complex, it was a bit difficult to figure out what they did since they were in a language Harry had never heard before.

Sighing, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose before pointedly stating, "There are no signs of Dark magic, Albus, other than what is present in his curse scar. Just as there were no signs of Dark magic in the boy _before_ you preformed the rituals."

"Rituals!? As in more than one?" Harry exclaimed incredulous, turning burning eyes on Dumbledore. "Just what the hell did you do to me, old man?" he asked, walking up to where the Headmaster was standing, poking him sharply in the chest to everyone's shock.

"The ritual is harmless," Severus retorted with disdain, figuring it was time the boy had one of his questions answered. He did not wish to find out whether the boy could bring down the building in a fit of rage or not. "The only drawback to the ritual is if the subject is not under the influence of the Dark Arts. If they aren't then the subject will wake up in tremendous pain.

"In fact, at one point in time, the Ministry of Magic used to use this very ritual as a means to torture their more... unsavoury prisoners. The ritual is classified as Light as it is listed as a Healing ritual, ensuring that the Aurors could not be accused of doing something forbidden. The practise was only stopped after it was discovered that those subjected to it repeatedly either went insane or committed suicide."

"My, my, my, kidnapping _and_ torture? All you need to do is killing something and you will be equal to the Death Eaters, how does that make you feel, warriors of the Light? Perhaps it is time to change the name of your little Order? How Fawkes can still stand by you..." Harry trailed off suggestively, smirking at the gasps of shock and outrage his words elicited. Thank Merlin he had found that potion when he did. It was almost worth the torture to be able to bring that look to the faces of Dumbledore's mindless sheep. Maybe now they would finally start thinking for themselves instead of blindly following their leader's orders.

"Harry, I have already explained to you that we did what we thought was for the best," Albus responded tiredly, reaching up to rub a temple. This was not the result he'd been hoping for.

Harry snorted, not appeased, but at least it had caused the old man to drop his annoying 'my dear boy' crap. "Best for whom? Best for the Weasleys? I'm sure they would be delighted if I were to fold and started going out with their only daughter. After all, that would get them a rich and famous son-in-law. Best for Hermione? Yeah, I'm sure she would be happy if I began to slack off again, since that would ensure she got her number one spot back. Best for the school? Best for the war? Best for Albus Dumbledore? It sure as hell wouldn't be the best for Harry Potter, now would it?" Harry snarled, going back to rubbing his wrists in frustration.

"Harry, you need to calm down and start thinking rationally," Albus said, although, admittedly, his words came out a bit more harshly than he had intended.

"Oh, so now I am being irrational," Harry chuckled dryly. "So not only am I influenced by some mysterious Dark Arts thing, I'm also being irrational. Nice to know you think so highly of me, Headmaster. I'm touched by your concern, I really am," he added sarcastically.

"Potter, are your wrists tingling? Do you feel a prickly sensation?" Severus asked urgently, worriedly eyeing the way the teen was rubbing his wrists.

Harry paused in his rubbing, looking down at what he had been unconsciously doing. "As a matter of fact, yes I do. I take it that this is bad?" he asked dryly, arching a questioning eyebrow at the Potions master.

"Albus, we need to get Potter back to Hogwarts, or he might very well level the building," Severus said urgently, keeping as far away from the teen as was humanly possible without actually leaving the kitchen.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked confused.

"You fool! I told you that Potter wasn't under the influence of the Dark Arts," Snape snapped harshly. "But as bloody usual you refused to listen to me. After all, I'm only an expert when it comes to the Dark Arts and their influences, so what do I know?" he added snidely.

"Severus, why do we need to bring Harry back to Hogwarts?" Albus asked with forced calm.

"Your little ritual has disturbed the boy's magical channels. I should have realised that was what caused that outburst earlier. In fact, _you_ should have realised what was going on, Albus, since you assured me that you knew all about the ritual and what affects overuse of it could cause," Severus snarled furiously.

"Severus, now is not the time for baseless accusations. Of course I read up on the ritual before using it, but it is clear that you think you know something the rest of us don't, so just answer my question, please," Albus said, pulling himself up imposingly, staring his spy down.

Severus snarled wordlessly but did in the end look away. "I told you, the boy's magical channels have been disrupted. That means that the magic can no longer flow through Potter's body the way it used to. The tingling in the wrists is a first indication, a first warning if you like, that the magic is attempting to create new channels for it to flow through. You all better pray that it succeeds," Snape added warningly, giving the gathered Order members a withering look.

"Why?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking like she longed to approached Harry and envelope him in a motherly hug.

"Because it the magic fails, Potter will be turned into a Squib. What? You never stopped to wonder why those prisoners went insane or committed suicide? Most wizard do not handle the loss of their magi well, a fact that has been well documented over the years."

"Kidnapped, tortured, and now turned into a Squib? Oh yeah, I'm having a _wonderful_ day today, how about your, headmaster? And this different your Order from Voldemort's how again?"

"Harry, you are not about to lose your magic," Dumbledore stated commandingly. "Severus do have a point, however, it would be safest if we brought Harry back to Hogwarts. The wards around the school will be better equipped to deal with any outburst that might occur. One more such surge that happened earlier and the wards around this house will shatter. Minerva, Severus, if you both would come with me? I promise to send word to the rest of you as soon as this matter has been resolved."

Harry considered refusing to comply, but in the end he resigned himself to another Portkey trip. If worst came to worst, he might hurt someone if his magic went completely out of control. And even though he did not mind if the idiots that had been helping Dumbledore got hurt, he couldn't find it in his heart to put the innocent Muggles living next door to risk, damn his soft heart.

But, once this current crisis was over, Harry was going to have a long, not-so-nice chat with Dumbledore, and if the Headmaster still kept his cards close to the chest, then Harry would reconsider his place not only at Hogwarts, but in the war and in the wizarding world as well.

For fifteen years he had been unable to prevent the Muggles from abusing him. For five years he had been unable to prevent the magical world from using and mistreating him. He had felt so grateful towards Dumbledore for allowing him to come to Hogwarts, rescuing him from his drab existence at the Dursleys, but enough was enough. Just what had Dumbledore actually done for him? Yes, he was the one who had rescued him, but he was also the one who had caused Harry to need said rescue.

Time and again, Dumbledore professed his care, but his actions did not fit with his words. Besides, Harry had saved the day how many times now? How many more times did he have to do so to pay off his gratitude? And just what did he feel gratitude over? For being allowed into the world that was rightfully his? For receiving an education he was entitled to as a wizard? For being gifted with items that already belonged to him? Just why should he feel grateful towards Albus Dumbledore?

Unaware of Harry's dark thoughts, Albus made sure that everyone had a finger on the Portkey before activating it, taking them back to the castle. In the end, Remus had been included in the group, Moony arguing that as the only surviving member of the Marauders it was his right to be present until Harry's magic had sorted itself out. Figuring that maybe the werewolf could help keeping Harry's temper and magic in check, Albus had only made a token protest before gesturing Remus to stand next to the youth.

When the Portkey was activated, Harry's magic exploded, causing the world to go black.


	6. Do Not Anger A Ticked Off Dragon

_Do Not Anger A Ticked Off Dragon_

Green eyes opened with a lazy blink, their owner not yet ready to greet a new day. Glancing around the room, the black haired teen felt a surge of panic go through him, effectively dissipating any lingering sleepiness.

Sitting up, Harry surveyed the room a second time, ignoring the various pains of his body, focusing more on the fact that he had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there. The pain throbbing behind his left eye did not help, making it rather difficult to both focus and to think.

Closing his eyes while taking a few deep breaths, Harry fought to bring his churning emotions back under control. Once he felt ready to face this latest calamity that seemed to have befallen him, he slowly cracked his eyes open once more and began to scrutinise his surroundings.

The small room was unfamiliar to him. The walls were white, the window large, bringing in plenty of sunshine. The furniture consisted of one bed, one chair, and one bedside table. That was it.

Shifting slightly, Harry reached down and ran a hand over the bedcover. Going by the look of the room, the feel of the bed, not to mention the smell in the air, Harry would venture to guess that he was in the Hogwarts hospital wing. But it sure as hell didn't look like the infirmary where he usually ended up at the end of one of his adventures. So where was he?

More importantly, was he in friendly hands... or in enemy ones?

Maybe this wasn't Hogwarts at all, maybe he had been taken to St Mungo's? But what had happened to him to land him there? Or maybe he was at Hogwarts, in one of the private rooms he'd heard whispers about? But why would the school nurse put him there? She had never bothered to give him privacy before. Not even the petrified students had earned that privilege. So maybe he was in enemy hands after all. Somehow he doubted that Voldemort's 'hospitality' included such courtesy, so maybe he was in the hands of the Ministry?

Sighing gustily, Harry ran his hands through his hair as he considered his options. None of them seemed encouraging. What alarmed him the most was that he simply could not remember what he had done to land himself in a hospital room.

Trying to think, Harry pondered likely scenarios. Quidditch accident? He sure as hell ached as if he'd been in one. But the next game wasn't for several weeks still. Besides, he'd been banned from playing, hadn't he? Stupid Umbridge. And stupid Dumbledore for refusing to lift said ban.

Potions accident? Unlikely. Despite his lack of skill in Potions, he had yet to cause an incident severe enough to land him in the hospital wing. Defence accident? Highly unlikely.

Perhaps he had had his yearly confrontation with Voldemort? Again, he ached enough for that to be a logical conclusion, but again it seemed highly unlikely. Harry couldn't remember any build-up, any mystery that would force him to rush in and save the day. For the past five years there had always been a mystery, so why not this year? With a snarl of frustration, Harry slammed his fists down onto the bed. Why couldn't he remember?!

And why hadn't anyone come bursting in to check on him? Normally he barely would have time to open his eyes before Madam Pomfrey would come bustling to his bedside and thoroughly check him over before pouring potions down his throat. Her actions always reminded him of a vulture, taking far too much pleasure from his discomfort.

And where was Dumbledore? The Headmaster was always sitting and waiting by his bedside whenever Harry woke up after one of his 'adventures'. Did this mean that he hadn't been fighting with Voldemort? Or did this indeed mean that he was in enemy hands?

Starting to feel annoyed, not to mention tired of the small, sterile room, Harry carefully manoeuvred his body until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Alarmed by how difficult it was to move, not to mention how much effort it took to do so, Harry couldn't help but wonder anew what the hell had happened to him this time. Another run in with Dementors?

_Well Harry, you won't find any answers simply waiting here like some sitting duck. You need to figure out where you are, how much trouble you're in, and how to get the hell out of here if indeed you are in enemy hands,_ Harry thought to himself, surveying the room with fresh eyes, this time with escape on his mind.

The window was a possibility, depending on which floor he was on. But before he began to plot any adventurous escapes, he might as well check the door first. Maybe he was lucky and it was unlocked?

With a plan in mind, Harry slowly got out of the bed, determined to limber himself up. He wouldn't be able to escape a newborn baby the way he was feeling right now. Fortunately nothing seemed to be broken, just stiff and sore. Unfortunately, he had plenty of experience when it came to waking up stiff and sore.

ooOoo

Harry considered it a great success when he managed to take several staggering steps without ending up flat on his face. Grinning madly, the teen took aim for the door and began to carefully totter his way towards it. Escape was at hand.

It took him far longer than it should have to cross the small space between the bed and the door, but after a small eternity Harry was finally standing next to his ticket to freedom.

Fighting back a cheer, not wanting to alert eventual jailors that their prisoner was about to escape, Harry took one last glance around the room, making sure that he hadn't overlooked any obvious clues as to his whereabouts. It was then he noticed that his glasses were still sitting on the small bedside table; without thought, Harry held out his hand, calling them to him silently.

The glasses flew across the room and Harry caught them smoothly, immediately putting them on. It was then two thoughts hit him. One, he couldn't see a thing. And two, he hadn't used his wand.

Reaching up slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Harry screwed his eyes shut before removing his glasses.

Later, Harry had no idea how long he stood there, fighting to simply breathe while struggling to keep from panicking. It wasn't until he had run through all the times he had faced off against Voldemort that Harry managed to convince himself that after surviving possessed teacher, basilisks, dragons, and dementors, he probably could survive this latest calamity too. No matter what 'this' turned out to be.

Taking a deep breath, screwing up his courage, Harry straightened his spine and opened his eyes.

_So... it wasn't a weird dream. I truly can see perfectly, but hang on..._ Harry thought, using his free hand to pinch himself, hard, suppressing an 'ouch' as pain did indeed radiate from his arm.

Looking down, Harry frowned as the sight of his wrist stirred some vague recollection deep inside his brain. There was something about his wrists... something important... but what? Unfortunately, the hint of a memory disappeared before he could grasp it, but Harry filed the incident for later pondering. First he needed to figure out where in the world he was, and why.

Since he obviously had no use for his glasses, and since the pyjamas he was dressed in had no pockets, Harry sent the frames back to the bedside table where he'd found them. Turning back to the door, Harry never stopped to think as he placed a hand on the worn wood, too busy trying to figure out a way to check whether it was locked or not without alerting anyone to the fact that he was awake and aware.

The moment his hand touched the wood, information began to filter into his brain, thoroughly freaking him out. The only thing stopping him from having a full-blown panic attack was the sudden knowledge that the door was neither locked nor warded in any way, shape, or form. Frowning deeply at the unexpected information, Harry forgot to panic as his inborn curiosity overruled any other emotions.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, Harry grasped the door handle, sent up a brief prayer to anyone listening, and carefully inched the door open a crack.

The door was indeed unlocked, and the teen couldn't believe his luck. Maybe he wasn't in enemy hands after all. Voldemort certainly wouldn't leave him unlocked or unattended, so that left Dumbledore and the Ministry, and Harry couldn't find it in himself to believe that he wouldn't be under heavy guard if the Minister had gotten his hands on him.

Pressing a cautious eye to the small opening, Harry did his best to survey his surroundings, thinking sardonically that living with the Dursleys had made him something of an expert when it came to ferreting out information the adults didn't want him to have. His time at Hogwarts had only fine-tuned his skills.

All thoughts of self congratulations fled from his mind once Harry realised that the next room held people. People that were talking. People that were talking about him.

ooOoo

"Albus... did we do the right thing?" Remus asked worriedly, giving his mentor a hesitant glance before swiftly diverting his eyes. The werewolf was too anxious to remain seated, which was why he was currently pacing relentlessly around the infirmary in an attempt to get rid of some of his excess energy.

It had been four days since their intervention. Four days since their attempts to rescue Harry. Four days since the boy had fallen into a coma, a coma he had yet to wake up from.

Fortunately, Harry was still a wizard. An extremely powerful wizard if the scans both Madam Pomfrey and Albus had performed could be believed. Considering that the youth had completely destroyed the warded room the Headmaster had created with the help of the Room of Requirements...

But what if they had been wrong?

Unfortunately, during the last discharge Harry had spent so much energy that he had completely depleted himself, delaying his recovery significantly. Poppy had reassured them that Harry would wake up soon, but it had been four days now and Harry had not as much as twitched during that time.

What if they had been wrong?

What if subjecting Harry to the cleansing _had_ caused irreparably damage?

...What if Harry was so angry with them that he didn't forgive them?

"Do not worry yourself so, Remus. Harry is a strong boy, as you well know. He will recover from this, you will see," Dumbledore said gently, doing his best to soothe the agitated wizard.

"But... How can you be so calm?!" Remus all but exploded, rounding on the Headmaster. "You saw what happened to him! For a while there I thought he was going to bring down the castle on our ears. You never said anything like this could happen. You never said that Harry risked becoming a _Squib_. Have you _any_ idea how disconcerting it was to get that piece of information from _Snape_?" Remus demanded to know.

"Remus, calm yourself. I never told you of the risks because I knew that there were none. Severus exaggerated, as he is wont to do in situations he does not like," Albus said with a slight chuckle. "History has shown us that the cleansing rituals have done more good than harm. If that was not true, the Ministry would have outlawed them by now. It is only when they are used repeatedly over a very long time period that they will cause harm to a person's magic. Harry was never in any real danger, of that I assure you."

Noting that Remus still did not look appeased, Dumbledore sighed slightly as he rose to his feet. Walking over to where the werewolf was pacing, the aged wizard placed a gentle hand on Remus' shoulder. "Harry is _fine_, Remus. True, the ritual took more out him than I expected, but considering the severity of his personality change, that was only to be expected. Besides, Harry is a strong boy and he will come out if this even stronger, trust me."

"I do, Albus, I do trust you... But he was so angry. I don't think I have ever seen him that furious before," Remus whispered, his heart aching for the boy he considered a son.

"I have," Albus said ruefully, thinking back on his demolished office. "Harry's feelings run deep. Just as Lily's did if you recall. It is that very capability to feel that is Harry's strength. His strong emotions of love and duty is what will help him triumph over Voldemort since no darkness can stand up to such fierce devotion," Dumbledore said, his voice filled with his conviction.

"Harry might be strong magically, but didn't you see the look of loathing he gave us? He hates us, Albus. My cub... hates me... I... I can't lose him too, Albus, I simply _can't_," Remus all but sobbed.

"It was bad enough when I thought Sirius had betrayed me, leaving me alone. Then when I found out that he was innocent... I had part of my pack back, Albus, I had my brother and my cub back in my life, and I finally felt whole again," Remus said, running agitated hands through his hair.

"But now everything is falling apart again. Sirius is d-dead and Harry hates me... I..." Overcome, Remus felt tears well up on his eyes, causing him to turn away abruptly, not wanting his Alpha to see him so weak, so emotional.

Tightening his grip on Lupin's shoulder, Albus did his best to comfort the younger wizard. "Shush now, Remus, Harry doesn't hate you. He will understand once he is back to his old self and we have explained everything to him.

"Harry is a most forgiving boy and he knows that sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. He will know that you were only doing what you thought was best, Remus, he will understand what you were trying to do."

"I hope so, Albus, I truly hope so," Remus whispered, clasping the comforting hand on his shoulder, trying to gain strength from the softly spoken words.

ooOoo

Staggering backwards, Harry glared hotly at the door. He couldn't believe the tripe that Dumbledore had just uttered. Did the old man even listen to himself and what he'd said? And Remus... did he truly believe that crap?

If the werewolf felt so strongly about him, then why in the nine hells hadn't he done anything to help and support him? Did he really believe that Dumbledore was that infallible? That the old man actually knew best? Didn't Remus know about the abuse that the Headmaster had subjected him to? And willingly at that? Was Moony so thoroughly under Dumbledore's thumb that he couldn't even think for himself?

And if Remus thought it unsettling that it was Snape who voiced concerns for a Potter's health, then it was doubly so for Harry to learn that the only one standing up for him was the one person who hated him the most.

_Okay, I have clearly fallen down a rabbit hole,_ Harry thought with dark amusement. _Right, I can deal with this. What do I know? I still can't remember what happened to me, but at least I'm not in the hands of Voldemort or the Ministry of Magic. _

_Then again, it sounds as if Dumbledore is the one behind my latest calamity and that is not good. Dumbledore meddling is never good, and if Remus is concerned for me... but he was more worried that I'd end up hating him than he was worried about me being hurt, wasn't he? So maybe this isn't as bad as I thought?_

_But no, from the sound of it, Snape was really worried about me, and if __Snape__ was concerned for me, then I __know__ that whatever happened can't have been good, _Harry thought to himself, worrying his lower lip as he pondered what he had learned.

Unable to stand still, the teen began to pace back and forth next to the door as he tried to figure out what to do next. Did he pretend that he hadn't eavesdropped on the two men? Did he march in there, filled with righteous anger, demanding to know what the hell was going on? Not that Harry truly believed that Dumbledore would give him any answers; the Headmaster of Hogwarts clearly was incapable of sharing what he knew, no matter who would benefit from his knowledge.

But what really annoyed the teen was that Dumbledore apparently believed that Harry was capable of defeating a fearsome Dark Lord by his fierce determination alone, which was a loud of dragon dung. Harry had been determined every single time he'd faced Voldemort and all that determination had brought him was the will to fight, the will to live, and the will to escape in the nick of time. It sure as hell hadn't done diddlysquat when it came to actually defeating the monster.

Thinking back on the private lessons Dumbledore had been giving him, Harry slowly realised that the old man was still playing games with him. The night Dumbledore had finally come clean about everything – or so Harry had assumed – the Headmaster had promised him that there would be no more secrets. He had also promised him that he would teach Harry himself since Harry and Snape simply could not get along.

But had Dumbledore kept his promise? Harry was quite shocked when he came to the realisation that the answer was no. Every time Harry asked a question, Dumbledore would brush him aside with a lame excuse or some vague promise of next time.

And how, exactly, was he supposed to defeat Voldemort by viewing old memories? Through that fierce determination of his? Or did Dumbledore believe that Harry could reform Tom Riddle by commiserate with him? The two of them discussing who had had the worst childhood while drinking a cup of tea? Just what the hell did the old man think he was doing? By what right did he withhold important information from him?

Making a snap decision, Harry slammed the door open, startling the occupants of the hospital wing. "Just what the hell did you do to me?!" Harry bellowed, his entire focus on the white haired wizard, completely ignoring the small huddle that was McGonagall and Mrs and Mr Weasley.

"Harry, my dear boy, you are awake," Albus said with forced delight, feeling more than a tad uncomfortable being scrutinized by too green eyes that seemed to be smouldering with power. The intensity of the scrutiny did not help either.

"Harry! You are awake! How do you feel? I'm sorry cub, I just wanted to help you get back to normal," Remus all but babbled, dashing from Dumbledore's side towards the teen, intending to envelope the boy in a big, squeezing hug.

Glowering with anger, Harry held up a commanding hand, keeping the advancing werewolf at bay by unconsciously calling on his magic to create an invisible shield, wanting to make sure that Lupin couldn't get near him.

Too elated, Remus never noticed a thing until he ran headfirst into it, causing him to stagger backwards when he hit the unexpected obstacle. Clutching his aching nose, Remus reached out a hand in confusion, trying to understand what had just happened. "Harry?" he asked uncertainly, finally noticing the anger that seemed to be rolling off his best friend's son.

"I'm still waiting for an answer, Dumbledore. What the hell did you do to me this time? Just what did you do for me to ache like this? And why is it that I can't remember a thing of whatever calamity that befell me? What? I can't hear you with everyone talking at once," Harry added sarcastically when the hospital wing remained completely silent. "What's the matter, the dragon caught your tongue or something?" he asked, giving the occupants of the room a disdainful look.

"Harry, dear, how do you feel?" Mrs Weasley asked, giving him a hopeful look while wringing her hands.

The unusual sight of the Weasley matriarch actually wringing her hands caused Harry to blink as something once more stirred at the back of his mind.

"Mr Potter, are you feeling alright?" McGonagall prompted, breaking Harry's concentration, causing the vague recollection to be lost yet again.

Giving his Head of House an irritated look Harry snapped, "Do I look like I'm bloody alright? Never mind, don't bother to answer that. Just tell me what the hell happened; it is blatantly clear that you all know, so I guess the real question is if any of you lot are man enough to actually give me an answer.

"Watch your language, young man," Mrs Weasley scolded with a stern look. A stern look that soon melted away, being replaced with a motherly look that caused Harry to clench his teeth tightly in irritation. So now he was a young man, was he? Usually he was looked upon as a child, wasn't he?

"I think I have earned the right to use any bloody kind of language I bloody well please," Harry snarled, glaring hotly at Mrs Weasley, not in the mood to put up with her brand of caring at the moment.

"Harry, it is clear that you are upset, but that does not give you the right to take that anger out on those who care about you," Albus stated commandingly, taking a few measured steps closer to the boy. "Take down that shield, it isn't needed here. You are among friends, my dear boy," he added with a twinkle and a chuckle.

Harry blinked, he hadn't realised that he was still holding the shield up. In fact, he couldn't even remember calling one up, but he wasn't about to lower it just because Albus Dumbledore commanded him to do so.

"Am I? Am I really among friends?" Harry asked loftily, glancing around the room, keeping the shield firmly in place. "I wouldn't know. I still can't remember what happened to me, and considering the way you lot refuses to answer my questions... I don't really feel reassured of your good intentions. How do I know that you didn't cause whatever is wrong with me?"

Outrageous gasps were his only answer. At first.

"We would never do anything to harm you, Harry, you are family!" Mrs Weasley protested shrilly, looking highly insulted that Harry could even imply that she would allow any harm to come to him.

"Harry, cub, you can't truly think that," Remus said, looking heartbroken.

"Mr Potter, what has gotten into you?! Fifty points from Gryffindor for daring to question your elders," McGonagall all but shrieked, looking like she was itching to slap him for his cheek.

"Now Harry, there is no reason for you to distrust us. Surely you know by now that we only have your best at heart?" Albus asked, giving Harry a sad look from over his glasses, trying hard to catch the boy's eyes so he could find out what he was truly thinking and feeling.

Ignoring everyone but the female redhead, Harry simply gave her a _look_. "You have yet to actually lift your hand to harm me directly," he began, talking slowly as he carefully thought out each word before voicing it. "But you can't deny that you have done nothing to keep me from those who do harm me, and in a way, isn't that just as bad?"

Mrs Weasley's face swiftly took on a red hue and she puffed herself up in a manner that Harry recognised from Ron. _So that's where he gets it from,_ he mused silently while waiting for the storm to break loose.

"I would _never_ leave a child in a dangerous situation," Mrs Weasley screeched, looking like she was itching to take a spoon to his backside, or possibly to order him outside to de-gnome the garden. "How _dare_ you say such a thing? How dare you stand there and lie to my face? You will apologise this instant, young man, or I'll-"

Snorting Harry didn't bother to listen to her threats. He didn't want to hear them. "You'll what? Send me back to the Dursleys? Send me to my room without supper? Force me to de-gnome the garden? You'll do what, Mrs Weasley?

"And for your information, I wasn't lying. How dare _you_ insult _me_ like that?" Noticing that Ron's mother didn't seem to have a clue what he was talking about, Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, whishing the pounding behind his left eye would just go away.

"Okay, it seems a trip down memory lane is in order. The summer before my second year, your sons were so worried about me that they 'borrowed' your husband's car and set out to rescue me. Do you remember that? Ah, I see that you do.

"Do you know _why_ they needed to rescue me? You should, they told you why, repeatedly, but I can see that you don't remember _that_. Very well, allow me to remind you. Your sons found me locked up in my room, starved half to death and thoroughly miserable. Do you know why? Because my uncle, when he found out that I wasn't allowed to do magic in the summer, locked me into my 'room'. Even going so far as to put up bars across my window to make sure that I couldn't escape, that's how intent he was to stamp the abnormality out of me. I suppose I should be happy he didn't resort to physical violence... that time," Harry couldn't help but add, smirking in vicious victory as everyone flinched at those two little words, but he wasn't finished yet, far from it.

"I was let out twice a day to use the bathroom, and I was fed once a day, and I use the word 'fed' with heavy irony seeing as all I got was a can of cold soup and a couple of slices of bread. I suppose I should be grateful that my relatives bothered to open the can before sliding it through the cat flap they had installed on my door.

"When we returned to the Burrow, what did you do? Ah, I can see from the expression on your face that you remember. You shouted at them. You never once gave them a chance to explain themselves, no you point-blank refused to listen to your own children, sending them out to de-gnome the garden with suitable threats of 'wait until your father gets home'.

"I was so relieved to be away from the Dursleys that I didn't think much of it, not to mention that I had no idea of how a normal family was supposed to function... It wasn't as if I had any friends growing up, all I knew was the Dursleys, but looking back, I find it peculiar that you didn't even bother to listen to their explanations," Harry said thoughtfully, waiting for the spluttering woman to gather herself enough that she could actually form coherent words.

"Harry...!" Mrs Weasley eventually gasped, looking as if she couldn't believe her ears. "...You know the twins and how they are. They are forever pulling pranks and larking about. They had _stolen_ their father's enchanted car. They could have been _seen_. Surely you can understand that I was concerned? Especially when they dragged you and Ron into their thoughtless prank."

Harry arched an eyebrow, looking utterly unimpressed. "You didn't once stop to think that maybe they had a reason to be worried about me? You didn't find it the tiniest bit strange that I was so thin and pale? If I recall correctly, it took me the rest of the summer to regain the ability to eat a full meal without having problems. I remember you complaining about me not eating enough to keep a bird alive, but you never, not even once, connected my condition with the things your own sons had told you about? Just what kind of mother are you anyway?"

Molly looked helplessly at her husband, for once not sure what to say. "Oh Harry, I never knew things were that bad for you with your relatives... I just... I didn't know you very well back then... You could have been a picky eater, Ron went through such a stage when he was younger, as did Percy," she eventually said, floundering badly.

Harry snorted. "A picky eater, right, well that is a handy excuse, isn't it? What about the bars in the car? You never stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were telling the truth when you found them? Especially after your sons had told you, repeatedly I might add, that the Muggles had placed bars before my window so I couldn't escape?" Harry asked incredulously. Seeing the incomprehensive looks on the two Weasleys faces, Harry made an impatient sound and wave the entire matter aside.

"Never mind, no wonder Ron is as pigheaded as he is, refusing to accept the truth when it is staring in his face. He clearly learned that from you. Well, that told me, didn't it? And to think that I actually believed that you cared for me. It is clear to me now that all you cared about was the Boy Who Lived," Harry muttered, unable to hide the hurt he was feeling.

That was too much for the Weasley matriarch and she went from befuddled to furious in sixty seconds blank. "Of course I care about you, Harry, how dare you insinuate that I only care about the Boy Who Lived? That is a lie and well you know it!" she snapped, placing her fisted hands on her hips, even going so far as tapping her foot in her annoyance. "I have always treated you exactly the same way as my own sons. I have argued and pleaded with Albus each and every summer to allow you to come and live with us at the Burrow. I even sent you care packages filled with food to ensure that you'd get enough to eat!" Molly added triumphantly. Let the boy now tell her to her face that she didn't care.

"Ah yes, the food package," Harry replied with a drawl. "Don't think that I didn't appreciate them, because I sure as hell did. They were the only thing preventing me from starving most summers. But let me ask you this, if my Muggle relatives were taking such good care of me, then why would you need to send me food in the first place?

"And what about that little scene at King's Cross last spring? If you felt so secure in the way the Muggles treated me, then why would you feel there was a need to threaten them? Could it be that you knew that they _didn't_ care for me? Could it be that you knew they _weren't_ treating me right? And this fits with your fierce statement that you would never leave a child in a dangerous situation how exactly?" Harry all but purred, giving Mrs Weasley a sardonic look when it was apparent that her only response was to splutter weak protests.

"You know I'm curious, how _would_ you describe being belittled, abused, starved, overworked, and locked up in a closet, Mrs Weasley? I would call that child abuse, wouldn't you?" Harry asked mildly, noting with some amusement that of those present in the room, only Dumbledore was able to look at him, everyone else was carefully diverting their eyes.

"I'm so sorry, dear, that the Muggles didn't treat you better, but-" Molly began haltingly, but was interrupted before she could figure out what to say to apologise to her seventh son.

"But nothing!" Harry interrupted harshly, not in the mood to listen to feeble excuses. "Child abuse is child abuse, no matter what excuses you try and give yourself. And you all knew. That is what truly infuriates me. You all knew, and not one of you cared! Why should you care whether Harry Potter is treated right or not, as long as the bloody Boy Who Lived is there to save the day, right? Is that what you were thinking? Or didn't you bother to think at all? Are you so brainless that you have to have the grand Albus Dumbledore doing your thinking for you?" Harry shouted, feeing his magic stir, fed by his rising anger.

"Why am I even bothering with you? Why should I waste my breath on explaining myself to you? Or to expect you to listen to me? From the day my parents' were killed, no one has cared for me or stood up for me to ensure my needs were met."

"Harry, cub, you know that's not true," Remus whispered, looking like he was about to burst into tears at any second. "Please Harry, I'm here for you, please let me in," he said softly, pressing a hand against Harry's shield, looking at Harry with such longing it was setting Harry's teeth on edge.

"There you go again, calling me a liar. No wonder Fudge could get away with his slur campaign. No wonder no one protested him calling me an attention seeking liar when the people who should be on my side thinks the very same thing!" Harry all but shouted, unaware that his magic was now visibly churning around him, seeking a target to the threat it was sensing.

"Harry, you need to calm down, my boy. You know that no one here thinks you are a liar. I know, I know my dear boy, that your life has not been easy, but you are alive and well, and that is that we could hope for consider the circumstances," Dumbledore said in an attempt to soothe hurt feelings. Unfortunately, his words were meant more for the adults than the teenager in the room.

Slowly, Harry turned his head and focused on the oldest wizard present. "I know that none of you think I'm a liar, huh? Just as I _know_ that everyone here cares, right? And in what dream world are you living in again?"

"Show Albus some respect, Harry, he has always done his best to look out for you and care for you. How dare you throw that back in his face? How dare you throw our love for you back in our faces?" Mrs Weasley shouted, having reached the end of her rope. This wasn't like Harry. This wasn't at all like the meek boy she was used to dealing with. What had happened to him? What happened to change him so drastically?

"I see; I am to show respect to Albus Dumbledore. I am to show respect and gratitude towards you, because you all love me, right? Allow me to give you all a crash course in the life of Harry Potter," Harry said sardonically, wondering if his words would actually change anything or if they would continue to cling to their spiel that they knew best.

"Harry-" Albus hurriedly said, having a feeling that he did not want to hear whatever it was Harry felt like sharing with them. Unfortunately, he was summarily ignored by a visibly fuming Boy Who Lived.

"The following ten years after my parents' were murdered, I lived with my Muggle relatives. They did not love me, no matter what Albus Dumbledore told you. They did not care for me. They _hated_ me.

"They forced me to live in a cupboard, feeding me scraps when they felt like it, dressing me in my cousin's castoffs that were far too large for my skinny frame. And I was forced to do all the work around the house. I was the one doing the laundry, I was the one doing the cooking, I was the one doing the cleaning, I was the one tending the garden.

"Did my 'loving' family even once thank me for my hard work? Did they ever praise me, telling me I'd done a good job?" Harry snorted at his own words. "Of course they didn't, that would have meant that they acknowledged me in a positive manner.

"No, they never thanked me, unless you consider being belittled, slapped, locked in a cupboard with a few scraps of food is acceptable ways to show gratitude.

"I had resigned myself to my fate, counting the days until I turned sixteen and could escape that hellhole. But then something wonderful happened, something truly magical. A letter arrived, and I found out the reason as to why my relatives hated me so much. I was a wizard. Can you imagine how I felt?" Harry asked sardonically, not giving anyone a chance to actually response to his question before starting up his tale again.

"When Hagrid came and rescued me, telling me I was a wizard, I was so relieved. Finally, I was going to be normal. Finally, I had an explanation to the strange things that tended to happen around me. Finally, I knew why my family could not love me. Finally, I would get the chance to be with my own kind.

"But as relieved as I was, I was also scared half to death. This was an entire new world I was entering. I had never had a friend before, what if I couldn't find one in the magical world either? Dudley and his gang I could outrun when they wanted to hurt me, but could I do that with magic too? What if I was not accepted by my peers? What if I was so far behind everyone else that I'd never be able to catch up? I'd never even heard of magic before my eleventh birthday, so how could I possibly match up to those who had known about it their entire lives?

"Still, as unknown as the magical world was, it still had to be ten times better than my life with the Dursleys. So I did exactly what any kid in my position would do. I kept my head down and my eyes and ears open. I talked the Sorting hat into sorting me into the 'right' House. I bent over backwards to keep everyone happy with me in hopes that they would like me back, and maybe, hopefully, they would allow me to stay in this new and wondrous world." Harry gave the gathered adults a sardonic smile.

"Oh yes, I did everything you lot were expecting me to. I saved the Philosopher's Stone. I rescued the fair maiden that had ended up in a life threatening situation due to her own stupidity. I rescued my innocent godfather, having to see him fly off free and fancy-free while I was still stuck with the Dursleys.

"Oh yes, I did what you all expected me to. And for what? What good did it do me? Dumbledore got a mouldable weapon he could use in his fight against Voldemort. Ron received the fame and recognition he had always craved by being the best friend of Harry Potter. I'm not sure what Hermione is getting out of all this, but being friends with Harry Potter isn't exactly hurting her, now is it? The sheep of the wizarding world get to sleep soundly at night, safe in the knowledge that the Boy Who Lived is there to keep them safe.

"But what about me? What did pleasing the wizarding world get me? After everything is said and done, once the yearly adventure is over and I once again proven that I am on the side of angels, what happened to me? I can see by the shamed look on your faces that you know what my 'reward' was. I was sent back to the Dursleys for yet another summer of abuse and starvation. The only bright hope in my dark hell was the thought of returning to Hogwarts and safety."

Harry snorted, "Some safety. Every year I have attended Hogwarts I have ended up having to fight for my life. Alone, with only the 'support' of Ron and Hermione to get me through. The student body of this school have either fallen over themselves to stare and gossip about me, or they have shunned me for some imaginary slight, still staring and gossiping about me, forcing me to ride out the storm until I could prove that they were wrong about me. And not once did the adults come to my rescue. Not once did they interfere on my behalf.

"I suppose I should be thankful they didn't. Because it made it easier to deal with the fallout after Fudge's hate campaign against me. Where was Albus Dumbledore then? Where were my friends? Where were the friends of my parents? Where were my adoring followers? Where were my Head of House?

"No one supported me. No one did anything to help me. Not one person contacted me in any way to tell me that they supported me or even that they believed in me. The one time anyone did anything to stand by me was when Dumbledore came to my aid at that scam of a trial Fudge put me through.

"I was so relieved not to get expelled that I never questioned anything, I was so happy to be allowed to get back to Hogwarts that I let everything else slide to the side. Can you imagine how devastated I felt when I found out that the Department dealing with underage magic is an independent department to the Ministry? And do you know why it is independent? So that the very thing I was subjected to cannot happen!" Harry roared furiously.

"Yes, Dumbledore, I found that out," Harry snapped, rounding on the Headmaster. "I wanted to find out for myself just what rights I had as an underage wizard. And what rights I had as a student of Hogwarts. I wanted to find out if there was any way for me to bring that... toad that wasn't teaching us Defence to justice for what she did to me. You sure as hell weren't interested in protecting the students, too busy playing games with Fudge to bother to ensure that your school was safe.

"And you, Professor McGonagall, what did you do when I, for probably the third time in my life, went to an adult for help? You told me to keep my head down and my mouth shut. Some help you turned out to be!" Harry shouted, his magic spiking as he remembered the feelings of betrayal he'd experienced when his own Head of House had refused to stand up from him. Again.

"And you lot can't understand why I don't believe you when you profess that you love me? Why the hell should I believe you? You've never done anything to help and support me. You've never done anything to keep me safe and healthy, or even happy. You've never done _anything_ for me, so why the hell should I believe you?

"You know what? I don't care what happened to me this time. I don't care to find out what you did to me this time. I just don't' bloody care. I survived it, time to move on. And that is exactly what I am going to do, move on."

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry, it shows what a fine, young man you are becoming," Albus said with a beaming smile.

Harry sneered derisively. "You didn't think I'm actually going to stay here, do you? Hell no, I meant it when I said that I was going to move on. As in leaving Hogwarts, and quite possibly England as well. Why the hell should I stay here? So that you can play god with my life some more? To give Fudge an easy target to hate every time something bad happens? To give the sheep of the wizarding world a hero to worship this week and hate the next? Why the hell should I stay here and subject me to all that shit?" Harry asked incredulous.

"Now, now, my boy, it isn't quite that bad, you know. You have a lot of true friends who are willing to stand by you no matter what. And then there is me. I care for you very much, Harry," Albus said, emitting a somewhat painful laugh. "I know I shouldn't but I look upon you as the grandson I never had. I have sworn to protect you to the best of my abilities, and I will continue to do so to the day I die," he added with an internal wince, full aware that that day was closer than he liked to admit.

Harry found himself staring at Dumbledore, his jaw hanging open. The old man actually believed that baloney? Taking a closer look, Harry realised that Dumbledore actually thought he was protecting and loving him. He truly believed that he had done everything within his powers to keep Harry happy and sheltered. "I- You-" he stuttered, suddenly having no clue what to say.

"Cub... I had no idea you felt like that," Remus said helplessly, sounding lost and bewildered.

"Maybe if you had bothered to stick around and actually spend some time getting to know me you would have," Harry snapped harshly, not feeling particularly forgiving at the moment. Especially not after the earth shattering revelation he'd just experienced.

"Harry... cub, I did the best I could," Remus whispered, giving the teen a hurt look.

"Did you?" Harry asked shortly, not in the mood for the emotional blackmail he sensed Lupin was about to unleash.

"Harry, I realise that you are upset, but taking it out on Remus is not right," Albus chided gently, hoping to forestall a full-blown argument between the two. It was easy to see that Harry was not entirely happy with Remus, but Albus needed the werewolf to assert some control over the teen, meaning that he could not afford for the two to be out of sort with each other. "Why don't we all go to my office? I am certain that we can come to some sort of understanding if we just talk things through calmly and rationally."

Breaking off the angry glare he'd been giving Lupin, Harry slowly turned his head so that he could give the Headmaster an incredulous look. "'Come to some sort of understanding'?" he echoed in disbelief. "What is there to understand? I've made my opinion of you all quite clear. I've had enough. I quit. I'm walking away. What about that do you not understand?"

"As I said earlier, I can understand that you are upset, Harry, but to threaten to simply walk away... that is incredible childish of you. We all know that you are not about to walk away from the wizarding world," Albus stated with conviction, gesturing for Harry to start walking towards the exit.

"And why is it we all know that I'm not about to walk away from the wizarding world?" Harry asked, wondering what kind of dragon dung Dumbledore would come up with this time.

"Harry, this is where you belong. The magical world is your world. Not to mention that your parents loved it so much that they willingly gave their lives for it, are you honestly telling me that you are willing to turn your back on their sacrifices?" Albus asked, convinced he already knew the answer to his question. Harry Potter was not about to leave the magical world, it was inconceivable. Besides, Albus wasn't going to let him do so.

Harry felt his jaw drop open. Albus Dumbledore had not just said that. The leader of the Light had not just stood there and sprouted that tripe. The Headmaster of Hogwarts had not just stood there and proclaimed that James and Lily Potter had died for the wizarding world, had he?

Oh Merlin, he had. And he believed it. Harry could only shake his head at the delusional old man, just when had Dumbledore lost contact with the real world? Or had Dumbledore begun to believe in the fairytale he had created around the Boy Who Lived myth?

Whatever, Dumbledore could believe what he wanted, Harry didn't have to believe it too. In fact, there was no way in hell that Harry would accompany him to his office, who knew what spells and compulsions was placed on that room?

Nope, Harry was not about to go there, unless... Smirking slightly, Harry folded his arms across his chest and stated, "The way I see it, there is no need for me to accompany you to your office, to anywhere else for that matter. The only way you will get me to comply with your wishes is if you swear a wizard's oath that you will tell me exactly what happened to me and why."

Everyone, even Dumbledore, gasped in shock at the boy's ultimatum. How could Harry make such an outlandish demand? The shock swiftly turned into outrage, how dare he make such a request of Albus Dumbledore?

Taking a step forward, Remus battled down his emotions and smile gently at Harry, saying, "I don't think you realise just what it is you are asking for, Harry. Demanding an oath from a fellow wizard is a very big thing, and should not be made lightly."

Harry snorted in contempt. "Aaaaand as always, you come to your master's rescue, Lupin. Tell me again, whose friend were you back then, Dumbledore's or my father's? Never mind, it is not important I suppose. Dad will have to sort that out with you himself when that day comes.

"As for the oath, considering the way Dumbledore always refuses to answer my question, why the hell should I accompany him to his office? So he can ply me with tea and lemon drops? So that he can spend Merlin knows how long waffling in an attempt to make me change my mind?

"Why should I? I've made my position perfectly clear. I no longer trust him. I will no longer blindly follow him and his orders, oh, pardon me, his _suggestions_. I'm asking that Albus Dumbledore for the first time in his life actually tells me what is going on," Harry continued angrily, gaining momentum now that he'd begun to address his grievance towards the aged wizard.

"In case you have forgotten, Lupin, _he_ is the one who placed me with the Dursleys. _He_ is the one who has 'encouraged' me to get involved in matters I should never have been involved in. I was an eleven year old kid, for Merlin's sake, I had no business getting involved with guarding Flamel's stone, but you saw it as an excellent opportunity to test me, didn't you, old man? For that matter, why did it have to be Hermione and I that went back in time to rescue Sirius? Considering that there were dementors and a mad werewolf rampaging about, wouldn't it have been more logical for _you_ to go and rescue him? Why didn't you? Didn't want to get your own hands dirty? Or did you see it as the perfect opportunity to test me some more? And you find it amazing that I don't trust him? Why the hell should I?" Harry demanded to know, all the while pointing an accusing finger at Dumbledore.

"That is enough," Remus barked, finding it more and more difficult to keep the wolf under control. This was his cub, true, but Moony did not approve of the way the boy was accusing the Alpha and he was itching to teach Harry a lesson in respecting his elders.

"I say it is enough," Harry retorted sharply, deliberately misunderstanding the werewolf.

"Harry, it is understandably that you are upset," Albus said with a sigh, frantically trying to come up with an argument that would force the boy to see sense. "It must have been very... unsettling for you to wake up alone and not knowing what had happened to once again land you in the hospital wing, but I assure you that there is absolutely no need for you to leave Hogwarts," Albus smiled somewhat condescendingly, never believing for a moment that the youth meant it when he said he was leaving. Hogwarts were the boy's home, everyone knew that. Besides, where could he possibly go? Back to the Dursleys? No this was merely angry posturing made by a child attempting to assert his own independence, nothing more.

Realising the futility with the entire situation, not to mention feeling too fed up to continue the pointless argument, Harry just turned around and began to make his way towards the doors. Why bother wasting his breath? None of them were listening to a word he said anyway, as bloody usual. Well, he'd show them that he was serious when he said he'd leave. Let them fight Voldemort on their own, it was about time if you asked him. Why should he continue to endanger his life and sanity? Why should he continue to give and give to a world that never gave anything back? What, exactly, did he owe the wizarding world anyway?

Reaching the doors leading to freedom, Harry wasn't particularly surprised to find them locked. He knew who had done it too. After all, the old man had done this to him once before. But this time, Harry wasn't feeling overwhelmed and grief-stricken, having just witnessed the death of his godfather. No, this time Harry was alert, aware, not to mention furious.

Placing his hands on the doors, Harry closed his eyes and gathered his magic. In one mighty burst, the teen let the magic go, shattering the spell keeping them closed. He also obliterated the wood the doors were made of, not to mention the doorframes and part of the wall as well.

Not knowing his own strength, Harry had gathered far more magic than was needed, and that magic was now loose, looking for more things to tear apart. It was fortunate for the occupants of the hospital wing that Harry was too tender-hearted to allow another living being to be accidentally hurt, no matter how mad he was at them.

The loose magic rampaged through the infirmary, crushing every inanimate object in its path, be it beds, bottles, pillows, or windows, causing the humans to scream in fear and force them to hastily put up shields in hopes of escaping the debris filling the air.

Holding his head up high, Harry defiantly walked through the now empty doorway before turning around to inspect the chaos he had unwittingly unleashed. Chuckling wickedly, Harry snapped his fingers, softly calling out for an old friend.

"Harry Potter is wishing to see Dobby?" the little house-elf asked cheerfully, bouncing slightly in his happiness to being summoned by the greatest wizard of their time. Noticing the ruins of what once had been a pristine hospital wing, his large eyes widened in dismay until they looked twice their normal size.

"Harry Potter is wishing for Dobby to clean?" he asked tentatively, for once not looking forward to the prospect of cleaning up a mess. Feathers were still dancing in the air, shards of glass and wood littered the floor, and large puddles were forming from spilt potions. Some were already slowly mixing, creating new and interesting effects, like the puddle just left of the former doorway that seemed to be eating away at the stone floor.

"Nah," Harry replied dismissively, glancing down at Dobby. "I'm sure the Headmaster is capable of dealing with this mess on his own. Besides, he caused it and I think it is only right that he be made to clean his own mess up for once. No, I called you here to ask you if you could be so kind and pack my things for me?"

"Dobby is happy to serve the most powerful wizard of our times," Dobby cheerfully replied, happily starting to bounce again now that he knew he would not be responsible for fixing the disorder that was the infirmary. "Dobby is going and packing at once. Dobby is making sure that all of Harry Potter's things is packed, yes he will. The great Harry Potter is not needing to worry," he said, popping away with a large crack. He immediately reappeared and staged whispered to Harry, "Dobby is telling other elves not to come here and clean," before popping away again with another large, almost cheerful crack, never hearing the groans of dismay coming from Dumbledore and the others.

"Well, then, I better be off then," Harry said giving the infirmary one last look. "I suppose this is where I state that it was nice knowing you all, but since I'm rather pissed off at you for the moment, I don't think I shall. Have a good life, ta ta, and all that," Harry said cheerfully, giving Dumbledore a mock salute before turning around and calmly starting to walk away, making mental notes of everything he needed to do.

"Harry, wait, you can't just walk away like this!" Remus shouted after him, abruptly waking up from his stupor. Dropping the shield he had erected to protect himself and the Headmaster, the werewolf nimbly jumped over the piles of debris and the various puddles, intent on catching up with his cub as soon as possible.

Harry ignored the shout, not in the mood to keep arguing with his former professor.

"Harry James Potter, you will stop this childish rebellion right now!" Remus bellowed, putting on an extra burst of speed. Catching up with the youth, Remus grasped his arm and swung him around, glaring daggers at green, defiant eyes.

"What do you think you are doing? Have you any idea how ashamed your parents would be of you right now? How dare you? How dare you behave so disrespectfully towards people how has nothing but your best interest at heart? How dare you being disrespectful towards Albus Dumbledore? He is a great man who has done nothing but care for and protect you since that fateful day. How dare you throw all that in his face like that?" Remus demanded angrily, unconsciously loosening his grip in Moony in his haste to bring his errant cub to submission.

Harry was not impressed by the display and he sneered as he yanked his arm free from the too harsh grip. "I don't know how my parents would feel right now, Lupin, because I never got to know them. Do you want to know why? Because they are _dead_, and none of their _friends_ could be bothered to talk to me about them. I can't help but wonder just how true their friends were, when all they will tell me is that I look like my father, but that I have my mother's eyes. Some legacy to give a kid, huh?"

"That's not true and you know it," Remus growled, his eyes bleeding golden as the wolf threatened to take over.

"And there you go, calling me a liar again, Lupin. Some _friend_ you turned out to be. For your information, _Moony_, none of the professors at this school will tell me about my parents, other than Snape, and his comments aren't exactly flattering. You wouldn't even acknowledge me when you were teaching here, so you have no right complaining. Sirius was willing to talk to me about them, but every time he tried, someone from the Order would come and stop him. It makes me wonder just what it was that they didn't want me to find out, you know?

"All I've managed to piece together is that Lily was skilled at Charms and Potions, James was skilled at Transfigurations and Quidditch. I also know that the splendid James Potter used his group of friends to bully and humiliate the other students. Such a _grand_ legacy to leave his child, don't you agree?

Remus saw red, and before he knew what he was doing, he had backhanded the boy he considered a son.

Not expecting the normally mild-mannered man to get physical, Harry was completely taken by surprise, allowing the blow to land with full force. Stunned, Harry lay in a crumbled heap before slowly reaching up to touch his aching cheek, hissing angrily as his fingers came back stained red with his blood.

"Harry... I'm so sorry," Remus whispered, looking down at the black haired teen with sorrow and anguish. "I'm so sorry, cub, I-"

"Don't you dare call me that," Harry hissed furiously, getting unsteadily back onto his feet. "You lost that right when you laid your hand on me in anger. In truth, you lost that right when you bloody _abandoned_ me."

Remus instantly forgot his remorse as anger once more overpowered him. "I haven't abandoned you, Harry, I did everything within my powers to keep you safe and protected. I'm a werewolf! The Ministry would never have allowed me to become your guardian," he snapped furiously, old hurts coming back to the surface, past grief and anguish fuelling his already hot temper.

Harry sneered, wincing slightly when his aching face and split lip protested the movement. "That's a handy excuse, isn't it, Lupin? I'm a werewolf, woe is me. But unless you have lied to me, you are only dangerous during the full moon. What about the rest of the time? What kept you from keeping an eye on me? What kept you from making sure the Dursleys were taking good care of me? Other wizards and witches managed to find me when I was little. They used to bow to me in the street, confusing the hell out of me and completely freaking out Aunt Petunia. How come you weren't one of those wizards, Lupin? Perhaps because you were too busy sitting in a corner somewhere feeling sorry for yourself?" Harry asked, contempt dripping from every spoken word.

"Harry, I-" Remus began, having no clue how to respond to the words thrown in his face, but Harry wasn't finished yet.

"And what about third year, huh? You spent an entire year here at Hogwarts, and not once did you seek me out. What, afraid the others would accuse you of favouritism? It is true that you reluctantly taught me the Patronus Charm, and while I will always be grateful to you for that, that is the only good thing you have ever done for me. You weren't even going to say goodbye to me once the truth was out, were you? No, you were once again going to just slink off with the tail between your legs.

"Then there is my fourth year. If you recall, I was forcefully entered into that blasted tournament, it didn't cross that feeble mind of yours even once that I might need some help, some encouragement, hell some moral support? Why the hell didn't you support me, Lupin?" Harry all but shouted at the stunned werewolf.

"That is enough, Harry," Dumbledore stated sternly, hoping to stop things from escalating completely out of control. "I asked Remus and everyone else to stay away from you while living with the Dursleys. I wanted to give you a normal childhood, and I knew there was a risk of Petunia throwing you out if they were forced to face too many magical visitors.

"As for Remus not seeking you out during your fourth year... I guess we got too caught up in keeping Sirius safe that we forgot to keep you informed of what was going on," Albus said somewhat reluctantly.

"Very nice sounding excuses, Dumbledore, very neat and very pat, well done indeed," Harry said mockingly. "While you were all so worried about me, my grades, and my childhood you completely forgot to give me the one thing that would have pleased and helped me the most.

"You forgot to give me my parents. I know absolutely nothing about my mother, and the things I do know about my father... frankly, I wish I didn't. James Potter was nothing but an attention seeking bully. Funny enough, the very things that Snape is accusing me to be. It would seem he _does_ have ample reasons to feel so much hatred towards my father. I sure as hell hold no love towards Dudley; at least my cousin can't use magic to torment me, the way James tormented Snape."

"Harry, your father was fine young man, and it disturbs me that you have such a skewed view of him. You really shouldn't allow Severus' feeling influence you like that," Albus said with a worried frown.

"No? Why the hell not? Snape is the only one who talks to me about my father. You sure as hell doesn't, neither does Professor McGonagall. Remus never does either, and while Sirius tried to tell me about my parents, he tended to focus on the pranks the Marauders pulled, he never really talked about the person my father was. Is that your doing too, Dumbledore? Is this another one of your 'let's keep Harry protected and in the dark' schemes? Did you forbid Sirius to tell me about my parents the way you forbid him to tell me anything about what was going on with my life?"

For once, Albus Dumbledore was lost for words. Glancing helplessly at the other adults, he searched for words to explain a situation he hadn't been aware of. "I don't know why no one talks to you about your parents, Harry. If I were to venture a guess, I would say it is because it is too painful for their friends to reminisce about them."

Harry huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "Is that why everyone is so eager to abandon me to my fate? Because I look too much like my parents? Are you trying to claim that it is too painful for the friends of James and Lily to be near me because I remind them too much of my dead parents so it is hurting them too much to look at me? Is that what you are saying? Is it? Because if that is true, then their friendship truly can't have been worth much," Harry stated angrily.

"Harry, you really shouldn't speak of matters that you know nothing about," Albus said, shooting Remus a nervous look.

"Of course I don't know what I am talking about. That's the point I'm trying to make for Merlin's sake," Harry snapped in exasperation. "No one talks to me about my parents, so how in the world am I supposed to know how to act to make them happy? How am I supposed to know what to do to make them feel proud of me? You all demand that I fight Voldemort, but why should I? For my parents? For their friends? For the greater good? For what is right?

"I don't know my parents, but I'd like to think that my ability to fight Tom Riddle isn't the only reason they'd feel proud of me. Besides, I've foiled him five times now, that should be enough to satisfy even the most zealous of parent's.

"For their friends? What friends? Aside from Sirius and Lupin, I haven't got a clue who their friends were, so why should I fight for them? For the greater good? All the so-called greater good has done for me is cause me grief and pain, so why should I keep spilling my blood for that?

"For what is right?" Harry scoffed scornfully. "I haven't got a clue what is 'right' anymore. The way I see it, neither Voldemort nor Dumbledore is anyone I want to follow, and if I don't want to follow them, then why the hell should I fight for them?

"As I said earlier, I have had enough. Find yourself some other mindless drone to fight your battles for you, because I will no longer do so," Harry stated with conviction, starting to turn away, intent on leaving this place once and for all.

"Harry, it would seem that you are still under the influence of the Dark Arts. This just isn't like you, my boy. As for why you should fight, if you can't do it to honour your parents' sacrifice... Well, don't forget that there is a prophecy...

"A prophecy that states that only you are capable of vanquishing the Dark Lord," Dumbledore said, mindful to keep his voice down.

Harry laughed, but it was a harsh and bitter sound. "Ah, yes, that precious prophecy of yours. Do you know what vanquish means, Headmaster? It means to defeat someone. It also means to overcome, overwhelm, overpower, beat, and trounce someone. Wouldn't you say that I have already done all those things to Tom Riddle? Just how many times did your precious prophecy state that I would have to vanquish the bloody Dark Lord?

"No, I think it is time the wizarding world got off its collective arse and started to do something about the problem they themselves caused. Why should I keep putting my life on the line for them? Until I see the magical world make an effort to deal with Tom and his followers, I'm not going to lift a finger against Riddle, unless he is coming for my blood, of course. Oh yeah, how could I forget, he's already done that, hasn't he? Ah well, you know what I meant," Harry said, smirking at the way his audience cringed in response to his words.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a million things to do. Finding a place to live, buying a wardrobe that actually fits, prepare for the N.E.W.T.s, stuff like that. Don't owl me, I'll owl you, although I wouldn't be holding my breath if I were you," Harry added under his breath, starting to walk off.

"Harry, stop being childish," Remus said angrily with put-upon sigh, snagging hold of the teen's arm once more. He had kept his temper, with some difficulty, but enough was enough. "We all know that you aren't going to leave Hogwarts so stop being so bloody dramatic.

"You might not like it, but Fate has dictated that you are the one to defeat You Know Who. Deal with it. Albus has kindly agreed to prepare you for what you must do, what more can you ask? The members of the Order of the Phoenix are doing everything they can to keep the Death Eaters and their activities to a minimum. We even have a new Minister of Magic who is doing everything _he_ can to get on top of the situation. All we are waiting for is you to be old enough to do your duty and finally finish that madman off, once and for all."

"Remus, I don't think this is either the right time or place to have this discussion," Albus belatedly cut in, hoping to head off the explosion he could see building in a suddenly enraged Boy Who Lived.

Ignoring the Headmaster, Harry tilted his head and thoughtfully regarded the man he had once considered as an honorary godfather. "Is that how you truly see me? As someone whose duty it is to kill off the current Dark Lord? That is really sad, you know. No wonder you kept your distance from me. Didn't want to see another member of your pack being killed, did you? So you decided to abandon me just like everyone else. Huh. Well, congratulations, Remus Lupin, I'm sure my parents are really proud of you right now," Harry said, his green eyes glowing with dislike and contempt.

"Now, cub, that might not have come out the way I meant to," Remus said carefully, finally starting to realise that he might have pushed the son of his best friend a little too far. The smouldering look in the boy's eyes reminded him eerily of both James and Lily, and Moony was starting to dread what would happen next. Maybe he should have allowed his Alpha to handle this after all.

"As for that extra training the Headmaster promised me, do you know what it consists of?" Harry asked, acting as if he hadn't heard a word of what Lupin had just said. "I was so excited when I found out that Albus Dumbledore would train me himself. I must have spent hours pondering what kinds of spells and enchantments he could teach me. I expected at the very least that he would help me learn Occlumency, especially considering how vital and important he believed that was for me to master last year.

"I should have known it was all too good to be true," Harry said with a humourless laugh. "Do you know what these lessons consist of? We sit and watch memories. Yes, you heard me correctly; we sit and watch memories from people who met Tom Riddle as he grew up. That is it. No Occlumency, no special shields or other spells that could actually help keeping me alive the next time I face old snake face.

"And I can't believe that you are actually standing there, saying to my face, that you are supporting the new Minister of Magic. Scrimgeour has done _nothing_ to prepare the population for the upcoming war. All he has done is arrest innocent people, claiming they are Death Eaters. And don't get me started on those ridiculous pamphlets they've been distributing. And if you recall, the Ministry has done _nothing_ to make things better for those who are labelled as Dark Creatures, so how in Merlin's name can you stand there, looking me in the eye, and claim that you are supporting that fool? And you can't understand why I am walking away? Just how much of an idiot are you?" Harry exclaimed, breathing harshly after his little rant. But Remus had hit an extremely sore point. The Ministry of Magic hadn't even apologised for the things Fudge had done to him. _Or_ gotten rid of Umbridge. Harry wasn't sure which grudge galled him more.

"Now, now, boys, you have both had had some trying days. I suggest we go up to my office, drink some tea and calm down a little," Albus said, putting on his best grandfatherly smile and his cheeriest twinkle.

"I wouldn't know," Harry stated dryly, giving Dumbledore a pointed look.

"Excuse me?" Albus asked, momentarily thrown by the completely unexpected statement from the boy.

"I still can't remember a thing of whatever happened to cause me to end up in the hospital wing again. For that matter, I'm not even sure what day it is today. As for the offer of tea and lemon drops... it is very kind of you, but I really need to get going," Harry said demurely, bowing with a flourish towards Dumbledore, his green eyes dancing with devilish merriment.

Dumbledore sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm truly sorry, Harry, but I can't allow you to leave," he said with a tired sigh. "It is far too dangerous for you to be out on your own. Voldemort has been relatively calm of late, that is true, but the same cannot be said for his followers. They have resumed their old activities, killing and torturing those who oppose their master, and no matter what you wish to believe, you are their number one target.

"And no matter how... irritated you are with me at the moment, surely you are mature enough to realise that Hogwarts truly is the only safe place for you at the moment. Are you really prepared to throw your life away because you are displeased with me and my Order people?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer yet hoping that by introducing logic into the argument, Harry would calm down enough to stop acting irrationally.

"Hmm, let me see... Possessed professor carrying the spirit of the Dark Lord at the back of his head; a basilisk petrifying everyone it laid its eyes on; a possessed diary; a deranged murderer waltzing in and out of the castle as he pleased; a dead man masquerading as a rat; the Triwizard tournament; a Death Eater pretending to be one of your professors... are you still going to stand there and tell me to my face that Hogwarts is the safest, securest place in Britain bar Gringotts? Considering the events of my past five years I think I rather take the chance to strike out on my own.

"By the way, there is something that's been bugging me for months now, ever since I found out the truth about Mad-Eye Moody. Isn't he one of your best friends? And still Crouch managed to impersonate him for an entire year? And no one suspected a thing? Shame on you, Headmaster, perhaps you need to spend more time with your friends if you are that incapable of recognizing them. Considering how often you've been preaching to me about the value of friendships... I would hate to think that you are one of those people who tell you one thing yet do the opposite when it comes to their own lives," Harry mused, giving Dumbledore another mocking look.

Albus had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "Ah yes, erm, I have to admit that there have been a few... unfortunate incidents in the past few years of a less fortunate nature," he eventually said with a slight cough before he brightened and hurried on. "But they are all in the past now, my boy. The basilisk has been destroyed, thanks to you, and I can guarantee that none of the current teachers are in any way, shape, or form supporting Lord Voldemort," Albus said reassuringly, careful of how he worded that phrase, deciding that bringing up Severus and his Dark Mark was probably not a good idea at the moment.

"Maybe so, but I still don't trust you," Harry retorted bluntly, whishing that this one fact would finally get through that thick skull belonging to the deliberate obtuse old man. At least Harry hoped the Headmaster of Hogwarts was deliberately obtuse, Merlin help the wizarding world otherwise.

"Harry dear, you really shouldn't talk to Albus like that," Mrs Weasley stated in a motherly tone of voice, joining the conversation for the first time since they left the hospital wing. "The Headmaster has done everything he could to ensure that you are safe from You Know Who and his followers. You don't remember the first war, Harry, which is understandable since you were just a baby, but the atrocity the Death Eaters committed... It was imperative that you were kept safe," Molly said, dabbing away a few tears. Gathering herself she continued with forced cheer.

"Besides, I am positive that your aunt and uncle do care for you. They might have some difficulty expressing that care; they still are your family after all, not to mention that they are parents with a son of their own."

Harry felt his heart softening somewhat when he heard Mrs Weasley mention the first war. No one knew, but he had read everything he could lay his hands on, wanting to truly understand what the wizarding world had gone through at the hands of Voldemort and his minions. The history books had been annoyingly brief and uninformative, devoting more time to him than to the war.

Fortunately, the Room of Requirement had been most helpful, supplying him with back issues of the _Daily Prophet_. The so-called news paper hadn't been much better in reporting facts back then than it was today, but enough was reported that Harry had little difficulty piecing the picture together, and what a grim picture that was. For the first time Harry truly understood why everyone was so determined to ignore the fact that Voldemort was back.

Yes, it might have made him understand the mindset of the sheep and their reluctance to believe the lunatic was back, but that didn't mean that he in any way had forgiven them for their unwillingness, or the length they were prepared to go to keep their heads hidden in the sand.

Just as he wasn't about to forgive Mrs Weasley for using the old cliché 'the Dursleys do love you, dear, deep, deep, _extremely_ deep down'.

Harry snorted and shook his head in contempt. Why was he even trying to get through to these people? They didn't listen to him. They never had, feeling too smug and secure in their knowledge that they were right and therefore he had to be wrong.

Sighing gustily, the teen ran a hand through his hair; absentmindedly noting for the first time just how much longer it was now than it had been before. "Why am I bothering to argue with you people? You don't listen to me. No matter what I say, you simply do not _listen_."

"My dear boy, I have always listened to you. It is unfortunate that you dislike your relatives so much, but the protection they give you truly is the one thing that has kept you safe over the years. Surely you are old enough to understand that your safety is more important than giving you a home where you were spoilt?" Albus asked, counting on Harry's generous and forgiving nature, not yet realising that the boy he knew and had dealt with for the past five years was gone and would never come back.

It didn't help that Harry was _not_ in a forgiving mood at the moment. Quite the opposite. And he was not inclined to be understanding either. "You truly believe that, don't you? That I was given a somewhat happy childhood, I mean. You truly think the Dursleys took good care of me, looking after me and giving me everything I needed, they just didn't spoil me. Is that what you are thinking? What all of you believe?" Harry demanded to know, looking at each and every one of the small group standing around him, trying to discern the truth for himself.

"Harry, I really do not think that a corridor is the right place for this discussion," Albus said nervously. Things were starting to get out of hand, again. They had managed to leave one danger zone, only to step right back into another, and Dumbledore wanted the teen someplace where he could contain the outburst he could clearly see building inside the slim youth. His office was strongly warded and should be able to handle Harry's anger in a way that this corridor simply couldn't.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, the ember of an idea forming at the back of his mind. It was becoming blatantly clear that he was never going to get through to the Headmaster. Dumbledore was too used to getting his own way; hell, he wasn't even willing to listen to any one else anymore. As long as they were good little soldiers doing their duty, Dumbledore simply didn't care. Simply didn't want to know.

Well, Harry was going to make him care. Harry was going to _make_ him know. And he was not in the mood to take no for an answer. "I do believe that you are correct, Headmaster," Harry eventually said mockingly. "This corridor truly isn't the right place for the 'discussion' we apparently need to have.

Before anyone realised what he planned to do, Harry had thrust his hand out, all five fingers spread, snaring the adults with his magic, freezing them in place. Lifting them up and levitating them to make it easier to transport them, Harry calmly began to walk down the corridor, looking for an abandoned room he could use to make his point.

The 'parade' wasn't a peaceful one, what with the adults protesting their treatment venomously, but Harry was way past the point where he cared about their opinions of him.

Poking into a room that looked like it had once been used as a classroom, sometime in the last century going by the thick layer of dust covering every surface of the room, Harry figured that this place was as good as any and entered it, dispelling the dust and cobwebs with a sweep of his arm. This wandless magic gig he seemed to have going now was really rather neat.

Considering what he wanted done, and how to best go about it, Harry transfigured a few desks into comfortable looking armchairs, placing his 'captives' in them, adding some ropes and an overpowered sticking charm as an afterthought, wanting to make sure that they stayed put until he was done.

"Mr Potter, I really must protest," Dumbledore said indignantly. Not sincehe'd been a child had anyone dared to do something like this to him, and Albus found that he did not enjoy this feeling of helplessness as he was unable to move anything but his head. What was worse, he could not reach his wand, and he seemed to be unable to overpower the teen's magic without it, which was, in truth, frankly quite alarming. Yes, he needed the boy to be powerful, but he never intended for the child to bemore powerful than Albus Dumbledore himself. And how dare Harry use his magic against his mentor like this?

"Cub, what do you think you are doing?" Remus asked, struggling to push Moony aside so that he could sound calm and approachable. Mayhap he could reason with Harry to let them go? He already knew that strong arm tactics didn't work on the boy.

Sitting huddled in their chairs, Minerva and the Weasleys kept their mouths shut, having no wish to further antagonise the Boy Who Lived. Just what did the boy plan to do to them?

"Oh, calm down you two, for Merlin's sake," Harry said exasperated, pacing back and forth as he pondered how to execute his half thought-out plan. It wasn't as if he had any clue how to go about reaching the result he wanted, and there was no one he could ask for help. Lupin and Dumbledore wouldn't want to help him, and he couldn't go to Hermione for help either. For one, he was not speaking to her, and two, she would never agree to help him go against Albus Dumbledore, so once again he found himself alone when facing his adversary.

"Well, once more into the breach, I guess," Harry murmured to himself before turning to his captured audience with a determined look on his face. "You think that you know me. You think you know what kind of life I have had. You think you have the right to meddle with my life, dictating what I should think or feel. You think you have the right, because you think you know me. You think you know what is best for me. You think you _know_.

"But I'm here to tell you that you don't. You _don't_ know me. You don't know what kind of life I've had. You don't know what is best for me because you _don't. Know. Me. _Because. You. Weren't. There. But I'm going to change that."

"What are you going to do?" Albus asked with dread, eyeing the teen nervously. What was Harry going to do? Had the Dark Arts changed him that much? Was the Harry he knew gone, killed by whatever malady that had befallen him?

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "There you go again, proving my point that. You. Don't. Know. Me.

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to show you a few things," Harry said calmly, finally having decided how to proceed with his plan. "I'm going to show you what kind of life you condemned me to when you dropped me off on the Dursleys doorstep. I'm going to show you what kind of hell you forced me to live through due to your blind devotion to Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm going to show you my life. At least this way I will know that you do not care when you brush me off the next time. If you are able to look the other way after this, then I will _know_ that you do not care about me, only what I am able to do for you," Harry stated darkly, pointing one index finger at his temple while cupping his other hand next to his head, frowning in concentration.

"What is he going to do?" Minerva hissed worriedly, eyeing the silver ball that was forming in the cupped hand.

"I'm not sure, but it would appear that Harry wants us to view a few of his memories," Albus replied, eyeing the growing ball with a sense of dread. Just how many memories did Harry intend to show them in his attempt to prove his 'point'?

Harry ignored the whispers, too focused on his task to bother to waste time or energy on that lot. Ruthlessly he tore down every wall he had built over the years, bringing forth every memory he had of his life with the Dursleys, no matter how deeply he had buried them. He even brought forth the ones buried so deep within in his mind he had managed to make himself completely forget that they had even happened.

Yes, it hurt, yet Harry took some savage pleasure from the pain. Soon the others would know this pain too, soon they would know what kind of hell their inactions, their disinterest, their blind faith, their lack of concern, had put him through. Soon they would know, and Harry was _glad_.

"But... he'll need a Pensieve for that to work... doesn't he?" Remus asked in alarm, his own sense of dread growing.

"Apparently not. From what little I have seen, it would seem that Harry no longer needs his wand to cast spells. To tell you the truth, I have never seen a wizard manipulate magic the way he did just now. If I were to venture a guess... I believe that all Harry truly needs to do is _will_ it strongly enough, and his magic will comply. After all, what is magic but will and intent?" Albus mused, attempting to understand just how Harry was able to manipulate his magic without his wand, and just what this would mean for the war effort.

Dumbledore was also busy trying to figure out what leverage he would need to get Harry to do what destiny demanded of him. Somehow the boy had become more powerful than even Albus had dared to hope, and it irritated him immensely that Harry had chosen now to enact his little teenage rebellion.

Didn't the boy realise just how important he was? Didn't Harry realise just how much he mattered to the wizarding world? Didn't he realise what an honour the Fates had bestowed upon him by choosing _him_ to become their saviour? Didn't the boy realise the amount of power he held as the Chosen one?

How could Harry even _think_ of walking away from all that? Of turning his back on his birthright? True, the boy had been given a Herculean task, but he had also been given the tools, not to mention the support, he needed to fulfil his destiny. How could Harry claim otherwise?

Didn't Harry realise that the entire wizarding world wished they could be in his shoes? And the boy wanted to throw all that away? Why? For what? Why was Harry so desperate to get rid of his fame, of his powers? Albus just did not understand.

His musings were interrupted when Harry stirred and blinked his eyes open. "There is an old saying, something about not judging anyone until you have walked a mile in their shoes," Harry said, giving his captive audience a thoughtful look. "For years I tried to tell you what my life was like, yet you refused to listen to me. You said that I was merely a child. You said that you knew best just because you were adults.

"You know, I find your brazen attitude extremely insulting. I was there, you weren't, and yet you claimed you knew best. Well, since you refused to listen, I guess you will just have to _see_," Harry said, rising his free hand, pointing imperiously at the empty air, willing the ball of memories to appear up there.

"Cub? This really isn't necessary," Remus stuttered, eyeing the ball with petrifying dread. "Surely we can talk about this, come to some sort of agreement-"

"I have gathered every last memory I have of my childhood," Harry said, ignoring the werewolf completely. "I have also included a few of my memories from my many 'adventures' here at Hogwarts. Perhaps then you will finally understand why I don't wish to remain here. Maybe then you will finally realise why I no longer am willing to fall to my knees and worship the great and mighty Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm not holding my breath or anything, since you people have proven to be extremely skilled at self-delusion, only seeing what you want to see, or only seeing what you are told to see. But at least I tried. So why don't you sit back and make yourselves comfortable? I have a feeling this will take a while. I suppose I should wish you a pleasant trip down memory lane, but that would be a lie so I'll guess it's best to just get this show on the road, eh?" Harry said with an almost pleasant smile on his face.

"Harry-" Dumbledore began to say, but Harry was not in the mood to listen to the platitudes and whatnot the old man tended to sprout, so he just _willed _the memories to connect to the grown-ups, smirking in satisfaction as five beams shot out from the memory ball, hitting each adult squarely in the forehead. With a collective gasp they slumped back in their chairs, held captive by Harry's memories.

The black haired teen watched them for a few moments, sneering slightly when tears began to drip from the females' eyes. Suddenly feeling fed up, Harry abruptly turned away and exited the room, placing every locking charm he knew on the room to ensure that no one could bother those inside or free them before they had finished watching those memories.

After a moment of thought, Harry summoned Dobby, asking the little elf to keep an eye on the adults. He might not feel very charitable towards them at the moment, but he didn't want them to come to harm either.

Once he had received Dobby's enthusiastic assurance, Harry slowly made his way down to the Great Hall. He had dealt with Dumbledore and some of his staunchest supporters... maybe, perhaps, he should tell the student body some hard truths as well before he left to live his own life. Perchance it was time to wake up the sheep and force them to smell the roses before it was too late.


	7. The Telling Of A Few Hard Truths

_The Telling Of A Few Hard Truths_

Everyone jumped when a sudden, strident noise, sounding extremely similar to that of a fog horn, rendered the peaceful silence of Hogwarts asunder. There were also a few startled screams, although very few would admit to emitting such a sound when confronted about it later.

Before teachers could make any moves to investigate the disturbance, a voice just about everyone was familiar with sounded throughout the castle.

"May I have your attention please? I apologise for the interruption, but could the students and the professors of this fine establishment make their way to the Great Hall please? Thank you," Harry Potter's voice spoke from the thin air before falling silent.

"Quiet!" Severus barked as his students began to eagerly chatter among themselves, speculating why Harry Potter would make such an announcement, where he had been for the past few days, and trying to guess just what was going on. In short, they were making a nuisance of themselves, much to Severus' frustration.

What was going on indeed. That was a question that Severus would like to know as well. He hadn't seen Potter since he'd been whisked away to the hospital wing four days ago, and he couldn't help but feel relieved that the brat was awake once more.

But the announcement was most worrisome. Albus would never give his permission for whatever Potter was planning to do, so why hadn't the Headmaster stopped him? And just why did Potter feel the need to summon the entire school to the Great Hall? What was he planning to do?

Biting back a sigh, the Potions master emptied all the cauldrons with a flick of his wand before tersely ordering the students to pack up their things and head out, orderly, to the Great Hall.

Quelled by his Death Glare, the students did as ordered, breaking out into excited chatters the moment they had cleared the door to his classroom. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus didn't bother reprimanding them, knowing how utterly futile it would be. Instead, he slammed the door close with vicious glee behind the last dunderhead, making sure to lock it tightly, before making his way to the Great Hall himself, making use of the floo in his office, ensuring he arrived at their destination well before the gossiping magpies that masqueraded as students did.

Finding Potter standing tall and proud wasn't a surprise. Finding him alone was, and Severus couldn't help but wonder where Albus was and why he hadn't tried to stop Potter's latest, no doubt, mad scheme.

"Mr Potter, what, exactly, do you think you are doing?" Severus asked silkily, stalking menacingly towards the bane of his existence. Just where was everyone? Where was Minerva? Where were the other teachers? Was he truly the only one who had remembered to floo to the Great Hall? And where was Lupin? Considering how hysterical the werewolf had been while the boy was comatose, Severus found it highly unlikely that the wolf would willingly allow the youth out of his sight.

"Oh, hello Professor, how come I'm not surprised that you are the first one to arrive?" Harry asked with an amused smile, unwittingly riling the Potions master further.

"Where is the Headmaster? I was under the impression that he was camping out in the hospital wing, waiting for you to regain consciousness," Severus said, striving to keep his tone of voice bland and disinterested. He still recalled, vividly, the way Potter had all but brought Grimmauld Place down upon their ears, and Severus was not keen to find out whether the boy was powerful enough to reduce Hogwarts to a pile of rocks or not.

"The Headmaster and his pet wolf is a bit... preoccupied at the moment, I'm afraid," Harry replied, a wicked little smile playing on his lips as he recalled how he had forced the old meddler to finally observe the damage he had caused. To feel the pain he had forced an innocent child to endure.

It wasn't enough, of course, it would never be enough, but it was a start.

"Is that so?" Severus drawled, arching an eyebrow in both interest and question.

"Yeah, I figured it was about time he was forced to experience for himself just how much my so-called family loves me," Harry replied, all but spitting out the word family. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few hard truths to tell the students of this 'fine' school. Why don't you go and have a seat? I think you will find this extremely interesting, not to mention illuminating," Harry said with a wink and a grin.

Not feeling particularly reassured, Severus nevertheless made his way to the head table and his customary seat. He still wasn't sure what he was feeling about Albus and his latest meddling with the Boy Who Lived, but he was content, for now, to sit back and watch as the events unfolded before him. If Potter did anything too outlandish, then Severus would relish in pointing out the boy's idiocy while taking copious amounts of points from the brat, quite possibly appointing a few nasty detentions as well.

"Harry? How are you? What happened to you? The professors wouldn't tell us anything. You haven't done anything foolish, have you? Oh, Harry, when are you going to start listen to Professor Dumbledore? You know that he has only your best interest at heart and-"

"Granger, now is not the time to initiate one of those third degrees interrogations you are so fond of. Nor is it the time to praise the Headmaster either. Why don't you take your seat like a good Gryffindor and stop badgering me? I have a few things I'd like to say to the school, and you are not going to get your answers any sooner by pestering me to death. I would have thought that someone as smart as you would have figured that out by now," Harry said coldly, turning away from the girl who had once been his best friend.

"Oi, that was uncalled for," Ron cried out, incensed on Hermione's behalf, but Harry ignored him as well, not interested getting involved with a shouting match with the redhead.

Before the situation could escalate, Hermione grabbed hold of Ron's arm, all but dragging him towards the Gryffindor table. There was something in Harry's demeanour... something that caused Hermione to feel extremely unsettled and wary, and she had a feeling that pressuring Harry for answers would not go over well. The confrontation between Ginny and Harry was still fresh in her mind, and she didn't want to do anything that might set the black haired teen off. At least not in public, and especially not in front of the entire school.

_But just wait until I get you alone, Harry James Potter, then you and I are going to have a very long talk, a __very__ long talk. Just you wait_, Hermione thought darkly, plonking down into the nearest seat. She did not appreciate being told off before the entire school, and how dare Harry make it sound like she interrogated him on a regular basis? She did nothing of the sort. But how else was she going to help guide him if he didn't tell her what he was thinking and feeling, not to mention plotting?

Working herself into a snit, Hermione sat glowering darkly at her friend, making a list of all the things she was going to tell him once she had him alone. Beside her Ron sat not so silently fuming, furious with Harry for the way he was treating the two most important persons in Ron's life.

_What is up with Harry these days? First he goes off on poor Ginny, making her cry her eyes out, and now he is mean to Hermione. She has done nothing but stand by him ever since his return to the wizarding world and this is the thanks she gets? Dumbledore is right, Harry has gone Dark, there is no other explanation._

_Well, I for one am going to tell him that if he wishes to remain__friends with the Weasley family then he is going to have to change his tune. Drastically. There is no way in hell I will remain friends with someone who thinks it's okay to drabble with the Dark Arts. That's something Malfoy and his ilk would do, not one of __my__ friends._

Harry was well aware that his friends were less than pleased with him, but at the moment he couldn't care less. He was less than pleased with a lot of people at the moment, so many in fact, that currently his best friends were at the bottom of the list.

Besides, Harry wasn't so sure he wanted to remain friends with them anyway. Not unless they stopped being so blindly devoted to Dumbledore.

Shaking his head, Harry pushed his musing to the back of his mind and opted to look out over the Great Hall instead. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like most of the students had arrived and were now watching him avidly.

Glancing behind him, Harry noted that all the teachers, apart from Dumbledore and McGonagall, were seated at the teachers' table, giving him gimlet eyes of various degrees.

_Looks like it is time to put this show on the road,_ Harry thought with an inner chuckle. Clapping his hands once, Harry turned back towards his fellow students, bestowing upon them a bright, beaming smile, unknowingly unnerving most of his audience.

"Right then, thank you for arriving so promptly," Harry began calmly, acting as if he did this sort of thing daily.

Up at the head table, Severus snorted at the boy's gall, but otherwise kept his peace. The other teachers were furiously whispering among themselves, but none of them seemed brave enough to actually approach the boy and demand an explanation. Instead, they muttered and mumbled, casting uneasy glanced between Potter and the doors, wondering where Dumbledore was and why he wasn't doing anything to stop the boy.

"I bet you are wondering why I asked you to come to this meeting," Harry went on, ignoring the whispers and the stares with practise ease. It wasn't as if he was unused to it, after all.

"Ever since my return to the wizarding world, I have done my best to keep away from the spot lights, wanting only to be Harry, a kid who happened to be a wizard.

"You wouldn't let me," Harry stated sombrely, giving the gathered students a dark look, making sure to rake his gaze over each table, putting equal blame on all of them. He even turned around so he could glare at the professors too.

"You gossip about me, and every rumour, every malicious whisper, you believe. You take delight in discussing the latest events happening around me to death, treating me with adoration or hate. You happily dissect everything I do or say, scrutinizing my every move in search of proof so you can feel vindicated in your beliefs."

The students shifted restlessly in their seats. They hadn't been behaving that badly... had they? But this was Harry Potter, their hero and saviour, surely that gave them the right to keep tabs on what he was doing?

Harry ignored them and went on with his speech. "Well, I'm here to tell you that I am sick and tired of it. I was not put on this earth to amuse you. I was not put on this earth so you could have a celebrity you could treat like dirt one day and then love the next only to treat me like dirt again, all depending on what was currently going on in my life.

"I have attended this school for five years now, and none of you have made an effort to get to know me. None of you could be bothered to find out for yourselves what kind of person I am. No, you were content to gossip about me," Harry stated, once again turning in a slow circle so he could give everyone a disapproving glare. "It was so much more fun to whisper about me than to actually find out for yourselves what the truth were, wasn't it? Merlin forbid that you'd exert yourselves, or, heaven help you, you actually tried to think for yourself," Harry said, his voice dripping with contempt.

"As I said, I have had enough of this shit. You refuse to see what is in front of your own nose, so I've decided to _make_ you see." Smirking evilly, Harry threw out his hand, pointing it at the ceiling. In the air above his head, a silvery mist appeared, solidifying into a transparent globe.

"One of the first questions I was asked when I returned to the wizarding world was whether or not I remembered the night Voldemort attacked my family. At that time I didn't. However, thanks to numerous encounters with Dememntors, that memory has been pulled from whatever dark corner it was hiding in. I am sure you will all take great pleasure in witnessing it for yourselves," Harry stated with a sneer, using his magic to play out the memory of the event that began his time in hell.

He didn't enjoy showing them this memory, but since half the school was determined to follow Voldemort, they might as well see for themselves what kind of person their 'god' was.

Sitting forward eagerly, every person in the Great Hall found their eyes riveted on the memory playing out before them, shuddering in delighted horror as they watched how You Know Who killed a desperately pleading Lily Potter. Only Severus Snape took no delight in the memory, only he was appalled by what he was witnessing. This was Lily, his one and only true friend, being murdered before his very eyes and it was all he could do to keep the tears at bay.

Once the memory was over and the sphere had gone dark did the students come back to themselves. Shifting uneasily in their seats, they glanced at their friends, uncertain to what to say or even what to think.

Yes, it had been thrilling to watch the event that had help shaped their world, but now that it was over, most found it disturbing, even sickening to remember the green light of the killing curse strike the redhead down. It was even more disturbing to remember how the green light brightening up the memory brilliantly before it got alarmingly black. Not even the Slytherins felt like gloating anymore.

"That was the birth of the Boy Who Lived," Harry said solemnly, his voice breaking into the silence that had befallen the Great hall. "I was picked up by Hagrid on Albus Dumbledore's orders. Sirius Black, my godfather, arrived on the scene as well, but when Hagrid refused to give me to him, Sirius went off to seek revenge on the one who had betrayed me and my parents, Peter Pettigrew, the true Secret Keeper.

"I think most of you know what happened next. Pettigrew framed Sirius and my godfather was sent to Azkaban without a trial. In the meantime I was dropped off on my relatives' doorstep. Dumbledore didn't even have the decency to hand me over to my aunt in person, no he left me for her to find in the morning when she went looking for the morning paper. Very brave and very noble of him, don't you think?" Harry asked, unable to resist adding that little jibe. It was about time these people realised that Albus Dumbledore was not a god. He wasn't even omnipotent. No, he was a manipulative bastard who had made it a habit of treating those around him like pawns, and such a man did not deserve the love and respect he'd been given by the wizarding world. It was way beyond time for these people to open their eyes and _see_ what was _really_ happening in their world.

"What Dumbledore didn't take into account was that Petunia Evans was jealous of her sister. She was a Squib, while her sister was a Witch. Their parents doted on Lily, finding the fact that she was magical fascinating. Petunia grew to resent her sister, and later on that resentment turned to hatred.

"All that hatred was turned on me since I was there and my mother wasn't. It all came to a head in the summer I turned eleven and they no longer could keep the knowledge that I was a wizard from me. The Muggles took ridiculous precautions in their attempt to keep me from my inheritance, but once again, Hagrid came to my rescue."

Just for fun, Harry played out the memory of the arrival of his first Hogwarts letter. And what happened next. More than one student laughed when the Dursleys were sent running from their own home when thousands of letters came streaming out of the fire place.

But they weren't laughing when they heard Petunia's vicious rant where the truth was finally revealed. In fact, most of those present shuddered as they were forced to listen to the woman's spite, and many pitying glances were sent towards Harry who ignored them with ease. He didn't want their pity. He had no need for it. And it wasn't to gain their pity that he was doing this. Besides, it wasn't as if these people mattered to him. Not any more.

"A lovely image of family unity, wouldn't you agree?" Harry asked blandly when the memory had played out. "I was never made welcome in that house, and I find it insulting that none of you bothered to use your own eyes. If you had _bothered_, you would have found out the truth without me having to point it out to you."

Up at the teacher's table Severus felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. That dig was aimed specifically at him and he knew it. What was worse, he could not refute what the brat was stating. Severus hadn't looked, because he didn't want to see the truth. He'd been happy to take his hatred of James Potter out on the son. Just as Petunia had done, Severus realised with a sickening feeling. How revolting, he was no better than a Squib, a nasty Squib at that, and Severus felt shame over his behaviour for the first time since the incident where he ended up calling Lily a Mudblood. The feeling did not sit well with the Potions master and he vowed to apologise to Potter. As soon as they were somewhere private.

Unaware of Snape's epiphany, Harry continued to address the student body. "What? Not one of you found it strange that I was so small and skinny? Not one of you reacted to the fact that I was wearing raggedy clothes that were at least five times too big? Considering how closely you paid attention to every other detail of my life, why did you skip those? Perhaps because it made you uncomfortable? Perhaps because you didn't want to admit that your hero wasn't spoilt and treated like a prince by his family?"

Again, Severus winced at the boy's digs, digs that came too close to the truth for comfort.

"No matter, back to my not so loving family. As I said, the Dursleys never wanted me, and they made that fact abundantly clear from day one. Dudley, my cousin, had two rooms to his name, his bedroom and his playroom. I was, most grudgingly, given the honour of sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry said matter-of-factly, showing them the space that had been his bedroom for the first ten years of his life.

"Dudley was spoilt rotten, given anything he wished for, while I had to slave for my family, being forced to scrounge for food and toys," Harry went on, showing the school a few choice memories from over the years, causing more than one person to mutter angrily at the unfair treatment he'd been subjected too. Harry once again ignored them, no longer longing for their friendship or wishing to appease them.

"You'd think that things got better once I re-entered the wizarding world, wouldn't you? Alas, if you are the Boy Who Lived, things are never that simple. I was stared at, and gossiped about, but no one made any real effort to get to know me. It made me feel _wonderful_ let me tell you," Harry said sarcastically, showing them a few memories of his first week at Hogwarts. The memories no longer upset him, he had been forced to endure worse since then.

"I suppose my life here at Hogwarts could have been simpler and gone smoother if Dumbledore hadn't decided to put his nose into my affairs. He began to manipulate me from the moment I re-entered the wizarding world, making sure I chose the path _he_ wanted me to walk on. Unfortunately, I was too young, too naive, not to mention too insecure back then to know any better, but I can see things clearly now," Harry said solemnly, showing the school the memory of his first shopping trip, feeling a little bad for dropping Hagrid in hot water, but the fact remained that if it hadn't been for his actions that day, Harry would never have argued with the Sorting hat the way he did.

(Up at the head table Severus bristled as he watched the blatant smearing of the Slytherin name and reputation. He would never forgive Albus for this. True, he did not want the brat in his House, but to outright lie to the boy like that? No, that he would never forgive, or forget.)

And if it hadn't been for Hagrid picking up the Philosopher's Stone that very day, acting as mysterious as humanly possible, then Harry wouldn't have thought of paying any attention to the news clipping telling about the break-in at Gringotts.

Oh, Harry knew that Hagrid had acted on Dumbledore's orders, and Harry didn't feel the least bit bad about dropping _him_ into hot water. The old meddling coot deserved it. So it was with relish that Harry showed how Dumbledore had tricked and openly manipulated him that year to ensure that Harry followed Dumbledore's wishes.

Most of those watching his memories wouldn't pick up on the blatant manipulation, too unwilling to see the Headmaster's true colours, but there were a few who _did_ see, and for now that was enough.

"As you can see, Dumbledore led my around by the nose that year, giving me just enough hints to keep me interested and constantly looking for more clues.

"Then came the showdown," Harry said somewhat dramatically. "We finally figured out the last piece of the puzzle, realising that the would-be thief had all the knowledge he needed to go after the stone. We immediately rushed off to seek out Dumbledore, wishing to warn him of what was going on. Imagine our astonishment when we learned that he had left the castle. And, surprise, surprise, McGonagall was less than interested in listening to us, shooing us off like errant toddlers.

"So, as the brave Gryffindors that we were, the three of us set out on our own to stop the thief and save the day," Harry said, his voice heavily laced with scorn and contempt for his own stupidity. If only he had known then what he knew now.

"When we arrived, a magical harp was playing, putting Fluffy into a nice, deep sleep. Unfortunately for us, he did not stay asleep," Harry said ironically, chuckling softly at the screams coming from various students as Fluffy woke up at just the wrong moment.

The memory of that night continued to play out with Harry making a comment now and then, freezing the memory once Hermione had taken the potion and gone back to rescue Ron and to get help.

"We were told the traps guarding the Philosopher's Stone had been set up by the professors, and that they were next to impossible for any thief to get past. I can't help but wonder just how much effort the teachers of this school put into those traps considering three first years managed to get past them with very little difficulty. I can't help but wonder if Dumbledore engineered it that way. I must remember to ask him the next time I see him," Harry mused, noting but ignoring the way Hermione was bristling at his lack of respect for the Headmaster. It was clear that she had not learned the lesson he was trying to teach. Pity.

Severus Snape, on the other hand, did see only too clearly what the brat who refused to die was trying to tell them, and he couldn't help but marvel at his own blindness. He had been there. He had been involved, and yet he had never noticed what the Headmaster was doing. Had his hatred for Harry Potter blinded him that much? Or had he been 'helped' to not notice? Both aspects were highly troubling, and Severus couldn't help but wonder what else he had missed, what else he hadn't seen.

"No matter, it is no longer important," Harry said with a shrug, lifting his hand, but then he paused. "You're not interested in seeing my confrontation with Quirrell, are you?" he asked, acting as if he was about to end the memory.

Immediately most of the students roared a resounding 'Yes!' causing Harry to chuckle as he allowed the memory to finish. "This is why Dumbledore handed out all those points at the Feast, stealing the House Cup from the Slytherins. I never said anything at the time, but the victory never set well with me. I have often wondered if Dumbledore did that to tie me tighter to him, and to give the Slytherins an even bigger reason to hate my guts. Another thing I'll have to ask the Headmaster I suppose," Harry mused, not caring in the least if he upset his own House or not. Somehow it no longer mattered to him what his Housemates thought of him. He had been faced with one betrayal too many, and Harry found that he no longer cared for anyone but himself. Why should he care for anyone else?

"Anyway, despite me being in Dumbledore's favour, he still refused to listen to me when I begged him to allow me to spend the summer anywhere else but the Dursleys. I already knew the summer wouldn't be pleasant, but I had no idea just _how_ unpleasant it would turn out to be," Harry stated regretfully.

"I went from being a hero to being a house-elf. I was once again forced to act as my relative's slave, and when a real house-elf arrived on the scene, my summer only got worse," Harry said, playing out the memory of Dobby's appearance and the consequences of his actions.

"Naturally, my 'dear' Uncle dealt with that little fiasco, and once he realised that I couldn't do magic outside of Hogwarts, he promptly locked me up and had every intention of forgetting about me," Harry said calmly, showing the school the dreary existence that had been his summer that year.

"Fortunately, the Weasleys came to my rescue before things could get really ugly, but once again the truth was disregarded because it was too uncomfortable to acknowledge," Harry said with a light sneer, playing out the memory of Mrs Weasley's refusal to believe her sons, too focused to reaming them out to hear anything they might have to say.

Once again there was angry muttering around the room, and Harry could see Ron turn a lovely shade of red. The black haired teen just knew there would be a loud and explosive confrontation the next time the two met, and once again he simply did not care.

"My second year was a busy one," Harry said reminiscently, adding a small chuckle. "I suppose it all began with that joke of a duel club that fraud Lockhart attempted to start. I must say, the sight of Professor Snape blasting that fool across the room is a cherished memory of mine," Harry confessed, allowing the memory to play out to the amusement of the Great Hall. The Slytherins particularly enjoyed the memory, just as Harry figured they would.

"As usual, things did not continue to go smoothly for me. When it became our turn to practise, I was partnered with Draco Malfoy, and the git just had to attempt to set a bloody snake on me." Harry scowled darkly at the smug looking blond before turning back to his memories.

"Lockhart, in his usual incompetent way, attempted to get rid of it, but he merely succeeded in pissing it off instead, thus outing to the entire school that I am a Parselmouth. The following weeks after that fiasco were not fun when once again I was subjected to vicious gossiping, staring, and finger pointing." Harry made a face as a few of the more prominent memories of that time played out before him.

"I didn't know it at the time, but this was only the beginning. On my way back to the dorms after attending a Death Day party, I ended up facing this lovely scene," Harry said, playing out the events when the first message to the school had been revealed.

"Naturally, all the blame was placed on me. I was _such_ a handy scapegoat, wasn't I? Who cared about the truth when they had a hero handy that they could drag through the mud?" Harry asked with a derisive snort as he played out a few of the more serious confrontations that had taken place that year.

"Once we learned that Ginny had been kidnapped by the monster, Ron and I set out to rescue her in true Gryffindor splendour. We weren't complete idiots, we _did_ seek the aid of a teacher. We were a couple of morons, however, when it came to which teacher we approached. Of all the professors available, we just had to go to Gilderoy Lockhart for help."

Harry sighed and sadly shook his head as he watched how Ron and he forced the peacock to come with them at wand point. The entire student body sat on the edge of their seats as they watched the unlikely trio make their way down into Salazar Slytherin's Secret Chamber. The teachers for most parts managed to hide their emotions, but they too couldn't wait to see what would happen next.

Ron was red in the face, muttering angrily under his breath. He wanted to stop Harry from revealing that Ginny was the one behind that mess, but he was unsure how to go about it without revealing too much.

Ginny alternated between watching in awe as her hero came to her rescue and hiding her face in her hands in shame as she remembered that if it hadn't been for her stupidity, then none of those awful events would have taken place.

Hermione was torn between pride in how well her boys had done, and fury that she hadn't been there with them as she should have been. If only she hadn't been petrified. She was the one who put all the clues together. She should have been there. This should have been her moment too.

If Harry noticed his former friends' discomfort, he didn't show it, too focused on the message he wanted to send the school. "When I finally arrived in the Secret Chamber, I was surprised to see that I was not alone. Imagine my shock when I found Tom Riddle there with Ginny," Harry said, pointing out the Head Boy in case anyone had missed him. Then he smirked. "Tom Riddle had some _really_ interesting things to tell me. Things that shocked me to the core. I have a feeling you will be shocked as well," Harry added with a wicked little smile as Tom Riddle proceeded to inform the world just who he was.

Harry paused the memory once Riddle had uttered the words 'when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!' not wanting the following fight with the Basilisk to distract his audience from the point he was trying to make.

"I bet you are rather shocked right now, I know I was," Harry stated calmly, secretly a little surprised that Malfoy hadn't jumped to his feet, shouting, calling him a liar. Perhaps there was hope for the blond after all.

"I mean, who would have thought? The greatest Dark Lord of our times, possible ever, and his father was a Muggle. A noble Muggle, but a Muggle all the same.

"As for his mother... Well, Tom called her a witch, but she was more of a squib from what I understand," Harry said, showing them the memory that Dumbledore had shown him. "From what little I know of the family, the Gaunts was once upon a time a great family, who took pride in their blood. Too much pride. They jealously guarded their bloodline, marrying close to the family, too close, and the end result was not pretty, as you can see for yourself," Harry said, gesturing towards the memory.

"This memory is one I haven't witnessed myself, but considering who showed it to me, I do not doubt that it is true. Merope was a squib, and she was so desperate to get away from her insane and cruel family she used love potions on her neighbour Tom Riddle to force him to sweep her off her feet.

"And her plan worked, to a point. She became pregnant and for some reason she stopped feeding Riddle the love potion. He rejected her and left her heavy with child. She lived long enough to give birth to her son and give him his name before dying, leaving Tom Marvolo Riddle, the future Dark Lord, an orphan.

"I can't help but feel sorry for him," Harry mused, shocking the entire Great Hall with his words. "He was left all alone in an unfriendly world. From what little I've been told, Tom did not have a happy life at the orphanage, fortunately his life was turned around when he was eleven, when his Hogwarts letter came.

"I don't know what happened to him, but something must have happened for Tom to transform from Tom Riddle to Lord Voldemort. What that something was I don't know, and, frankly, I don't care," Harry said, secretly amused to see that everyone was still cringing at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

"What I do care about is that Tom Riddle allowed his hatred, his anger, and his fears to rule him. He created Lord Voldemort and set out to change the world. And he succeeded, somewhat," Harry allowed, looking out over the room.

"Lord Voldemort ensured that fear and hatred became a cornerstone of our society. Lord Voldemort drove a wedge between the Light and the Dark that shouldn't be there. Lord Voldemort killed and destroyed in the name of Pureblood supremacy when he himself was a half-blood, making him a hypocrite.

"Lord Voldemort proclaims to be following his ancestor's noble cause, but I bet you every Galleon in my trust vault that Tom has no idea what Salazar Slytherin's cause was. If you recall the Sorting hat's song at the start of the school year, the four Founders were great friends. Great friends with a vision. But something happened, and Salazar left the school. Why we don't know. Maybe he did oppose Muggleborns being allowed to attend his school; mayhap it was some entirely different reason.

"Does it really matter? This happened over a thousand years ago. Does it really matter why their friendship fell apart?" Harry asked seriously, making a point to look at each of the four House tables.

"Personally, I don't think so, but that's just me. I agree that there are a lot of things that needs to be fixed in the magical world. For example, I think it is wrong to persecute werewolves, denying them the right to have a job and lead a normal life.

"A lot of you remember Remus Lupin, he was our Defence teacher in my third year and he was a great teacher. I bet most of you who were his students agree. But he had to leave. Why? Because he was a werewolf. The one competent Defence teacher I've had – apart from Professor Snape – and he was driven away because he happened to be bitten by a werewolf as a child. That seems... wrong," Harry said with soft sigh, unaware that Snape had all but preened when Harry called him a competent teacher, shocking the hell out of the Potions master.

"I could go on, but that's not why I asked you here, so let's continue, shall we?" Harry said with a light chuckle, staring up at the now dark globe. "Um, where was I?" he muttered, having lost track of his train of thought by the unexpected side topic.

"I believe you were about to show us how you managed to escape the memory of Tom Riddle," a silky, dark voice said, causing Harry to jump and most of the hall give Snape a grateful look, they wanted to see the that too.

"I was, huh?" Harry laughed, but allowed the memory to appear in the globe again. Smirking, he started it from the point where Riddle began his confession, figuring that a second viewing couldn't hurt.

ooOoo

"Merlin Potter, I can't believe you survived _that_!" Malfoy exclaimed once the memory ended with Harry and the others arriving in Dumbledore's office.

"I believe McGonagall described it best in my first year. Sheer. Dumb. Luck," Harry chuckled, causing the occupants in the Great Hall to groan.

"Now then, let us move forward two years, to the events of the third task of the Triwizard tournament. I'm warning you, this won't be pretty," Harry warned, and Severus had to bite back the urge to order the first and second years out of the room. They already had plenty of food for nasty nightmares, they did not need more. And yet he stilled his tongue, knowing very well that they needed to know. Besides, they would never forgive him for denying them this opportunity. Biting back a sigh, the Potions master made a mental note to stock up on sleeping potions; Poppy was surely going to need them.

In the sphere, a bloody and dirty Harry Potter appeared, approaching a golden cup cautiously. To the side, an equally scruffy looking Cedric Diggory appeared, and the two boys stared long and hard at each other.

Then the noble argument began. "I've always regretted that I wasn't selfish that night," Harry sighed, unaware that he was speaking aloud. "If I had taken the cup myself, then Cedric would be alive today," he added sadly, shuddering as the words that appeared so often in his nightmares were uttered. 'Kill the spare'.

With a blank face, Harry watched the rebirth of Lord Voldemort. He witnessed the return of the 'man's' loyal followers, and he witnessed his own desperate fight for his life.

"So now you know. You know the truth about Voldemort's origin. You know the truth of Voldemort's rebirth. And now comes the hard part," Harry said with a mischievous grin that swiftly dropped off his face as he continued, "Now you have to decide for yourself what you want to do.

"Do you want to become a follower of Lord Voldemort? I won't stop you even though I think that would be a mistake. Do you want to follow Dumbledore? I won't stop you from that either, although I do have my misgivings about him as well. Don't want to follow either? That's just fine with me. Hell, start your own side for all I care.

"What I _do_ care about is fixing this mess the older generations started but seem unable to finish. I don't want to kill and plunder. But I don't want to leave it up to incompetent politicians either, who seems more interested in their own powers than actually doing anything worthwhile.

"We need to strike a balance between the Light and the Dark. It seems ridiculous to me to try and eradicate either side. From what little I've seen so far, both sides are needed if we are to have a successful society.

"A lot of laws and traditions need to be revamped and examined for usefulness. I'm _not_ say that we should just forget the old ways and embrace the Muggle's beliefs and traditions," Harry stated forcefully when protests rang out at his words, the most vocal being the Slytherins.

"But I _am_ saying that if the old traditions are so important, then why isn't Hogwarts upholding them? Why aren't the Muggleborn and the Muggle raised taught about them? Or are you telling me that only the Purebloods are worthy of upholding the old thoughts and beliefs?" Harry asked challengingly, glaring angrily at the Slytherins who suddenly didn't seem to have anything to say.

"As I said, there are a lot of things that needs to be changed, but I doubt killing and torturing people are the way to do it. But change needs to happen, no matter what the Ministry and Dumbledore are saying. It is high time we broke the status quo, because the status quo isn't working anymore.

"Well, that's what I had to say. Thank you for listening," Harry said, bowing to his audience with a flourish. When most of the students rose to their feet and began to applaud, Harry started in surprise but then he began to laugh, making his way towards the nearest exit, not particularly caring it was the door that lead to the dungeons.

Glancing around the room, Severus took stock of the mood of the students, feeling heartened when it appeared that the children was actually thinking about what Potter had said. Perhaps there was hope for this generation after all.

Movement caught his eyes, and Severus mentally rolled his eyes when he saw Granger and the two Weasleys determinedly hurried after the Boy Who Lived.

Rising to his feet, Severus followed the trio having a feeling the upcoming confrontation was going to get ugly, pausing only long enough to announce, "Classes are cancelled for the rest of the day".


	8. The End Of A Beautiful A Friendship

_The End Of A Beautiful A Friendship_

"Harry James Potter, how could you?!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry didn't bother to stop or in any other way acknowledge the ones following him. He only stopped and turned around when a Bat-Bogey hex whizzed past his ear, causing him to scowl darkly at the panting trio glaring at him.

"What do you want?" Harry snapped, folding his arms across his chest impatiently, battling this strong urge to hex, curse, and jinx his former friends.

"Harry, how could you?!" Hermione asked shrilly, while Ron looked ready to do murder and Ginny looked like she was going to burst into tears any second.

"How could I do what? Force the students of this school to open their eyes and actually see what is going on? Is that what you are asking? Or are you asking how I could be so daring as to tell the students just who exactly it is that half of them wish to follow? Is that what you are asking, Granger?" Harry demanded challengingly.

"No, I'm asking how you could do something that despicable to Ginny!" Hermione snapped, looking like she was itching to slap him.

"I wasn't aware that I was doing anything despicable to her," Harry immediately shot back, arching a sardonic eyebrow just for the hell of it.

"I... You... ARGH!" Hermione shouted, much to Harry's amusement.

"Very articulate, that Granger, I'm almost impressed," Harry drawled, his lips twitching with mirth.

"I... You... This isn't funny, Harry! Do you realise what you have done to Ginny?" Hermione cried, running agitated hands through her hair, gripping it tightly in her distress.

"I haven't done anything to Ginny," Harry said dismissively, waving the issue aside.

"I... You... How can you stand there and say that?" Hermione choked out. "How can you stand there and look me in the eye and say that you haven't hurt Ginny? Don't you understand what you have done?!" Hermione asked incredulous.

"I have shown the school just who Voldemort is. I have opened the eyes of the Purebloods who think he is the answer to all of their problems. I have forced the students of this school to start thinking for themselves. Yes, I am very well aware of what I did, I _was_ there, you know," Harry couldn't help add, watching with amusement as Hermione's fury was ratchet up another notch.

"NO! I'm talking about what you did to Ginny, you... unfeeling beast!" Hermione shouted, killing Harry's amusement abruptly. "How could you show the entire school what she did like that? How could you out her secret like that? Don't you feel for her at all?!"

"I considered Ginevra's feelings, yes, but in the end I decided that the greater good of showing the school just what and who Tom Riddle is outweighed the discomfort she would suffer. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, you know, Granger, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," Harry said with fake sympathy, a feral grin appearing on his lips as his words sank home. It felt rather great to be able to turn Dumbledore's words against them.

"But it wasn't your right to make that decision," Hermione snapped, not believing that Harry had just said that.

"Not my right, eh? Considering I was there... if it wasn't my right, then whose is it? Yours? Dumbledore's? Who would you say have that right?" Harry asked curiously.

"I don't know, but it certainly wasn't yours," Hermione snapped. "Have you any idea how difficult life will be for Ginny now? Have you any idea what the other students are going to do to her now? How they will behave towards her? How they will treat her?" Hermione asked, her anger growing with each question until you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

"Hmm, I wonder, how will the students behave?" Harry mused, adopting a thoughtful air. "Will they react the way they did when they thought I was the Heir of Slytherin? The twins aren't here to run interference for her, but you two are more than capable of keeping the mob at bay. Not to mention that Ginerva is quite skilled with that Bat-Bogey hex of hers, so she should manage just fine.

"Or maybe they will react the way they did last year when the _Daily Prophet_ wrote all that garbage about me? It was irritating to be whispered about and viewed as if I was going to go on a killing spree at the drop of a hat, but it wasn't too distracting so Ginevra shouldn't have too many problems.

"Hmm... I guess Ginevra will only have a problem if the student body reacts the way they did when my name came out of that blasted goblet. But at least she will have you two standing by her side, won't she? Which is more than I had, so, again, she should be fine," Harry said dismissively, glad to have gotten that little dig in.

"You really don't care, do you?" Hermione whispered in shock.

"Why should I?" Harry asked with a shrug. "I happen to think that the truth is more important than the feelings of a silly girl. A silly girl I no longer even like."

"I'm not silly," Ginny cried indignantly, opening her mouth for the first time during this confrontation.

Harry merely shrugged, not even bothering to try and come up with an answer to that statement.

"You truly have gone Dark, haven't you?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

Harry snorted. "And there you go sprouting off nonsense again, Weasley. I do something you don't approve of, so _of course_ I have to be Dark. Tell me, why are you even friends with me?"

"Huh?" Ron asked intelligently while Hermione snapped, "What kind of daft question is that?"

"A very valid one, at least from my point of view. Why are you friends with me, Ronald? Was it for fame and fortune? Was it because you like me as a person? Be honest, why are you my friend?" Harry asked, his green eyes glowing challengingly, forcing Ron to look away, his lips pressed together angrily.

"I thought so," Harry snorted derisively. "Go back to the Gryffindor tower, Ronald, go back to your little lions. Go on slandering the Slytherins. Go on living in your safe little black and white world, where Gryffindors are good and Slytherins are evil."

"That was uncalled for," Hermione said quietly, her eyes shooting daggers at Harry.

"Was it? For five years, Ronald has told everyone within earshot that Slytherins are evil bastards that will stab you in the back. For five years he has gone out of his way to start trouble with Malfoy, justifying his actions on the facts that Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin and his father is a Death Eater. That makes it okay in Ronald's eyes to attack a fellow student.

"Tell me, Granger, you who are so smart, how is that different from Draco Malfoy attacking you for being a Gryffindor and a Muggleborn?" Harry asked calmly, sneering when no ready reply was forthcoming. "Thought so. As I said before, Voldemort sowed hatred and fear. I for one will no longer allow that mad man to dictate my thoughts and feelings. I'm not going to apologise for telling the truth. I'm not going to apologise for revealing how stupid Ginerva was. I acted for the greater good of this school; for the greater good of the wizarding world.

"I can see that you can't accept that, and since I'm not going to argue with you, I suggest we part ways here. See you around, I suppose," Harry said, deliberately turning his back on his former friends, leaving them behind as he began to walk away.

"Don't you walk away from me, Potter!" Ron shouted. "Come back here and act like a man!" he added, sending a jinx at Harry's unprotected back.

That wasn't so unprotected the trio found out when the jinx was bounced off a shield and sent back towards them. Having not expected anything like that, the jinx hit all three of them, causing them to fall to the floor when their legs turned to jelly.

"If a Slytherin is one who attacks a fellow student in the back, does that mean that you are wearing the wrong colours, Mr Weasley?" a silky voice drawled, causing the trio to cringe in dread. "I suppose I could ask the Headmaster for a resorting, but I don't think I shall bother. Why should I wish to welcome into my House a disgrace such as yourself?" Severus asked dryly, smirking in amusement as Ron first turned white, then red, visibly struggling not to reply to the taunts. The boy had obviously learned _some_ restraint over the years. Or he was hoping to not lose any points if he just remained silent enough. Too bad that that plan was going down the drains.

"Let's see... Twenty points for using magic in the corridors. Thirty points for hexing a student in the back. And another thirty points from you, Ms Weasley, for the same crime," Severus added, watching with hidden amusement as the girls turned white as they realised just how long he'd been standing there.

"Classes have been cancelled for today. Might I suggest you make use of the fine weather?"

"Yes Professor," Hermione managed to choke out before hightailing it out of there, her firm grip on Ron's arm ensuring that he had no choice but to follow her.

"Gryffindors," Severus huffed with mix of annoyance and amusement. Would they ever learn? "Now then, where did Mr Potter disappear to?"


	9. And The Beginning Of A New One

_And The Beginning Of A New One_

"It was a foolish and dangerous thing you did, Mr Potter," Severus stated calmly when he finally caught up with the boy, somewhat surprised to find him sitting calmly in the Potions classroom.

"Foolish? Perhaps. Dangerous? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely. For too long have the leaders of this world guarded their secrets jealously, attacking anyone who came too close. I happen to believe that it is beyond time some of those secrets were brought to light," Harry replied calmly, glancing up at the Potions master before going back to doodling on the desktop, using his index finger as a quill.

Severus regarded the teen thoughtfully, wondering what to do or say next. Figuring he might as well be comfortable while he tried to make sense of this new Harry Potter he barked, "Come with me."

Arching an eyebrow, Harry considered whether to obey or not, but in the end he figured he had nothing better to do so with a shrug he complied, following the older man silently, wondering where they were going.

The where turned out to be Snape's private quarters, and Harry glanced around curiously while taking a seat at a nice looking table in a corner of the living room.

Not surprisingly, the room was done in various shades of black, green, and silver, yet it was... soothing. The room made you feel welcome, unlike the Slytherin common room that had felt cold and hostile to Harry the one time he had visited there.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, what did Dumbledore tell you?" Severus asked once a tea tray had been brought by an elf and tea had been poured. Holding his warm cup, the black eyed man waited patiently for the boy to start talking.

Harry was holding his own cup, breathing in the aroma appreciatively, suddenly realising just how long it been since his last meal. Then the Potions master's question registered and he couldn't help but snort. "Albus Dumbledore actually telling me something? Don't make me laugh, Professor. I woke up alone in the hospital wing, with no clue as how I got there, and when I tried to leave, I ran into the Headmaster and his favourite... pets. We had words, but I can't say that anything of importance was exchanged. Do you know what happened to land me in the infirmary, sir?" Harry asked, eyeing the professor curiously, not really expecting an answer. When had the adults in his life ever bothered to tell him the truth? Or bothered to tell him anything for that matter?

Taking a deep breath, Severus bit back the urge to curse meddling old fools while wondering just where Dumbledore was. He could only hope that Potter hadn't killed him in an outburst, but he did not yet feel secure enough to confront the boy on that matter. Instead, he informed the teen just exactly what had taken place at Grimmauld Place, and the resulting consequences.

Harry listened silently, never taking his eyes off the Potions master's face, trying to understand just what had happened to him, the reason why, and how, exactly, he felt about it.

Once Severus had finished speaking, silence ruled the living room as Harry digested everything he'd been told. Eventually, he carefully put his cup down and picked up a scone, placing it in the palm of his hand. Bringing his hand up to eyelevel, Harry sat there and simply stared at it.

Arching an eyebrow, Severus wondered if the news had been too much for the boy and he had finally snapped under the strain. But then the scones twitched, and between one blink of the eye and the next, a kitten was sitting in Potter's hand.

"Interesting," Harry mused, petting the kitten thoughtfully. "And potentially dangerous."

Severus secretly agreed but all he said was, "How so?" taking a fortifying sip of his tea.

"Because I have no idea how to transfigure scones into kittens," Harry replied calmly, still petting his new pet. "I already knew my magic is now responding to my emotions, considering the state of the main ward of the hospital wing, but if it will end up responding to my every thought... I can picture several instances when that could turn deadly for my antagonists."

"What do you plan to do now?" Severus asked, amazed how... mature this Potter appeared. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

"I honestly don't know," Harry admitted, taking a fortifying sip of tea. The sip reminded him of the fact that he was starving, so putting the kitten down, somehow creating a bowl of cream for it, Harry set about to devour the offerings Snape had summoned from the kitchen.

Watching with hidden amusement as Potter began to demolish the tea tray, Severus' mind was busy coming up with a solution to the boy's problem. Illogically, Severus felt somewhat responsible for what had happened to him.

Severus hadn't told Albus of the ritual, he hadn't cast the spell, he hadn't done anything but stand back and observe. He had protested the use of the ritual. He had protested the number of times the spell had been cast. But he hadn't really done anything to stop Dumbledore. Yes, it was futile trying to stop Albus Dumbledore once he got an idea in his head, and yet he couldn't help but feel like he had let the boy down.

"It wasn't your fault, Professor," soft, entirely unexpected words, were spoken and Severus was unable to hide his reaction to them. "How do you know what I was thinking?" Severus snapped, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

"I didn't. But I felt... I felt feelings of remorse and something I can't quite place," Harry replied thoughtfully before looking shocked at his own words. "Bloody hell, what did I just do?" he asked, starting to panic. What kind of freak was he now?

"Calm down, Potter, before you destroy my living room," Severus barked, pleased to see that his words shocked the brat out of his building panic.

Harry blinked, then glanced around, noticing that a breeze seemed to be stirring through the room. "Oh, umm, my apologies, Professor."

"It would seem that in an effort to help guard you, your magic is giving you the ability to sense other's emotions. I would imagine it will end up being somewhat frustrating, but since it will help keep you from being manipulated and used by others, I would say the overall benefit should override the level of annoyance you will experience when dealing with the dunderheads of the magical world," Severus stated succinctly, startling a laugh out of the boy.

Feeling calm enough to finish his tea, Harry did just that. Leaning back in his seat, kitten clutched gently against his chest, Harry pondered what he had learned and what that knowledge meant for his plans.

"What do you intend to do?"

"I'm not sure. I had a vague notion of leaving Hogwarts and go to Grimmauld Place, kicking the Order out of there and continue my studies on my own. But now... I'm not so sure that is a good idea anymore."

"I would concur. Isolating yourself will not help you learn how to deal with your new... awareness. I agree that some measure of seclusion would benefit you, but not a total separation. You would also need a mentor to help monitor your progress and to help keep you calm when you get frustrated, and you will be frustrated, especially at the idiotic leaders we've somehow been saddled with."

Harry couldn't help snort in amusement, but secretly he agreed. Besides, even though he had discovered the previous year that he was capable of studying on his own, he still had gotten stuck plenty of times, forcing him to forego several useful spells simply because he couldn't figure out how to make them work properly. Then he frowned. "But who could help me?"

"What about Lupin? Merlin knows he dotes on you and would fulfil your every whim," Severus said derisively, arching an eyebrow in surprise at the disdainful snort coming from Potter.

"What did he do?" Severus asked curiously.

"It's more like what he didn't do," Harry muttered darkly, burying his nose in soft fur.

"Mr Potter, where, exactly, _is_ the Headmaster and his, what was it you called them? Ah, yes, his pets?" Severus asked, feeling a quiver of dread run up and down his spine.

"Don't worry, sir, I didn't kill them," Harry replied with an amused snort. "I simply gave them the opportunity to walk a few miles in my shoes."

"Meaning?"

"That Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, and Mrs and Mr Weasley are currently experiencing my life with the Dursleys," Harry replied succinctly, keeping his focus completely on his kitten.

Only to look up in shock as laughter seemed to fill the room. Yet the Potions master wasn't uttering a sound. "Sir?" Harry asked worriedly, wondering if he was finally losing his mind.

Severus tried, he truly did, but having witnessed the boy's powers in the Great Hall, the image of Albus Dumbledore being forced to face his mistakes was simply too much. Add in the look on Potter's face and the Potions master was utterly incapable of keeping his mirth quiet and he began to whoop with laughter.

Realising what had happened, Harry sat back in his seat, a bemused look on his face. This was getting surreal, but he couldn't deny that Snape had a nice laugh. The man should do it more often.

Severus was just starting to calm down when the floo flared and a distraught Poppy Pomfrey appeared, all but crying in distress. "Severus! Do you know where Albus is? My infirmary is a wreck!" she wailed. The dismayed and guilty look on Potter's face set off another bout of hilarity, causing the school nurse to come through the fireplace and start casting diagnosis charms, convinced that someone had cursed the normally snarky and taciturn man.

ooOOoo

"I'm fine, Poppy, truly, there is no need for you to feel concern," Severus stated with forced calm for the sixth time in five minutes. Merlin, but the woman could be stubborn.

Poppy merely harrumphed, but once she was fully convinced that nothing was wrong with Snape, she turned her attention to Harry, much to the boy's consternation.

"Well, it would seem there is nothing wrong with you, Mr Potter, for a change. But what in Merlin's name happened to my hospital wing?!" Poppy demanded, planting her fists on her hips. "I wish to know today, gentlemen, I am not above using my most unpleasant spells and potions the next time you end up in my domain."

Harry shuddered, having no problems visualising the things the school nurse would do to him the next time she felt he needed a check-up. Sighing softly, Harry brought up the memory for the other two to see, starting the moment he woke up ending it when he walked out of the room he'd stuck Dumbledore and the others in.

"That man!" Poppy hissed, looking like she wanted to yank Dumbledore's beard out, one strand at the time. "I _told_ him not to antagonise Mr Potter. I _told_ him not to do _anything_ until I had had a chance to check him over. And what does he do? He antagonised that poor boy until he loses all control. Don't worry, Mr Potter, I do not blame you for what happened, the blame belongs squarely on Albus' shoulders, and that I will inform him of the moment he returns to us.

"And I will make sure your punishment is followed to the letter, Mr Potter. Albus will be putting my infirmary to rights again, and to my exact standards," Poppy assured them, marching out of Severus' quarters, looking very much like a general preparing for war.

"Wow," Harry muttered, torn between feeling admiration and utter dread.

"Wow indeed," Severus replied, feeling pretty much the same. He was well aware of how... protective Poppy could be of her charges, but never before had he seen her this riled up. Then again, never before had her domain been trashed to that degree before either.

"So... what happens now?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling rather lost and alone.

"Now we consider your future, Mr Potter," Severus replied calmly. Taking a good look at the boy, Severus thought for a moment before summoning a house-elf again, this time ordering it to bring a couple of bottles of butterbeer.

Picking up one of the bottles and taking a deep drink, Severus marshalled his thoughts. "I presume you do not wish to remain here at Hogwarts?" he asked, going through his list of associates and acquaintances, wondering who he could entrust the boy to.

"I wouldn't mind staying at Hogwarts, Professor, it is Dumbledore and his highhanded manners I object to. I don't want him to have a say about my life anymore," Harry quietly confessed, taking a deep drink of his bottle in an attempt to hide his suddenly hot face.

"I see," Severus mused, not knowing why he felt relieved, but this would make things immensely much easier. And, perversely, more difficult. "Then I would propose an apprenticeship."

"An apprenticeship?" Harry repeated baffled. Where had that notion come from? And what did that even mean?

"Yes, the easiest way to ensure that Albus no longer has any influence over you is to place you in an apprenticeship with a known Master. You would still have to take your N.E.W.T.s of course, but that does not prevent you from starting a more rigorous study of your chosen field right away. Is there a field of magic you would be interested in becoming a master at?" Severus asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

"I... umm... well, there is Defence Against the Dark Arts I guess," Harry replied slowly, completely thrown by this unexpected curveball.

"Ah, but is that a subject you enjoy, or is it a subject where you are expected to do well?" Severus asked with a knowing smirk.

"Umm... Well, I guess... I don't actually know," Harry was forced to admit, taking another deep swallow of his butterbeer; Merlin but this was embarrassing.

"Considering your aptitude for the subject, it would not be difficult for you to achieve mastery in Defence," Severus allowed thoughtfully, ignoring the shocked look he received for complimenting the brat. "That said, there is nothing that prevents you from achieving a second mastery should you find a subject you actually enjoy. It is not unusual for gifted wizard to attain several masteries, especially in subjects closely connected to the one closest to their heart."

Harry eyed the Potions master shrewdly. Do you have more than one mastery, Professor?"

"Indeed I do. I have obtained master status in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I have reached journeyman status in Herbology, Astronomy, and Ancient Runes," Severus proclaimed proudly.

"Wow, colour me impressed," Harry whispered in awe, then blushed hotly when he realised that he had actually spoken out loud.

Severus merely snorted in amusement but did not otherwise comment.

"So this means that I can become someone's apprentice and study Defence, but I could also study other things I'm interested in?" Harry asked, wanting to make absolutely certain that he had all the facts straight.

"Exactly."

"Good. But who would I apprentice to? And just what is an apprentice? What is it they do?" Harry asked with a frown, suddenly realising that he had no clue what an apprentice actually did, other than study.

"Me."

Harry gaped at Snape, waiting for the man to laugh, or taunt him, or cry out 'I'm just kidding you fool'. But nothing happened. Snape just sat there, watching him with amusement, calmly drinking his butterbeer.

Snapping his jaw close, Harry sat back in his chair, alternating between taking steadying drinks of his own beer and nuzzling his kitten as his mind whirled chaotically.

"You wish to become my master," Harry eventually asked flatly.

"I do," Severus replied calmly.

"And you will actually teach me?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I will."

"But... you hate me," Harry finally cried exasperated, adding a dark frown for good measure.

Severus sighed and picked at the label on his bottle. "There is no secret that I hate James Potter, and, as you know, I have good reason for doing so. From the things Albus let slip about your childhood, I believed that you were just like him, just as spoiled, just as arrogant, just as... callous."

"What caused you to change your mind?" Harry asked shrewdly, realising that Snape had changed his attitude, and for someone as... stubborn as Snape to change his mind, something drastic must have happened.

Severus scowled darkly at his bottle. "At Headquarters... while you were having that first outburst that all but demolished the second floor, I grabbed hold of you in an attempt to...

"Actually, I'm not sure what I was trying to do. Stop you from swallowing your tongue perhaps? Anyway, that does not matter, what is pertinent to your question, however, is that I was... somehow finding myself inside your mind for a brief moment."

Harry blanched, having an idea what was coming next.

"I didn't see much, but the few, chaotic glimpses I got from your childhood were enough to prove beyond a doubt that I had been completely mistaken in my assumptions. For that, I apologise," Severus said, somehow managing to get those words out.

So Snape knew.

And he was man enough to both admit and acknowledge that he was wrong.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel. He positively hated that Snape knew about his childhood. But that was mostly because he didn't want the professor to use that knowledge as ammunition against him.

From the way that Snape was behaving, Harry had a feeling that he wouldn't do that. But could Harry be certain?

"So... if I become your apprentice, will you _teach_ me?" Harry asked, the question hanging in the air between them.

"Yes, Mr Potter, I will teach you to the best of my ability," Severus promised solemnly. "I have enough skills in all subjects but Divination to help you achieve top scores in your N.E.W.T.s. I assure you, should you become my apprentice, I will do my utmost to guide you, treating you as if you were one of my Slytherins."

Harry hummed and drank some more butterbeer. Snape sounded sincere. And the promise of treating him like one of his snakes... If Snape kept that promise... "And you won't throw James Potter in my face every time I do something you don't approve of?" Harry asked suspiciously, just to make sure.

"You will never hear me praise James Potter, Mr Potter, but I will not, as you so aptly put it, throw him in your face," Severus said, fighting a losing battle to keep his lips from twitching in amusement.

"Good, that's... good," Harry muttered, not sure what to say or do; this entire situation felt utterly surreal. "And you will be able to keep Dumbledore and the other idiots away from me?"

"Yes. There are plenty of empty room down here in the dungeon. It should not be difficulty at all to create a set of rooms for you to stay in. You might not be able to access the grounds much, but a nice conservatory or a greenhouse should help with that. If you truly wish to experience the outdoors, then charms can be applied to a room, much like the ceiling in the Great Hall, but instead of merely showing the outside sky, it can mirror the actual weather, with wind, and rain, and snow." Severus explained calmly, snorting in amusement as the brat's jaw headed south yet again.

"You, you can actually do that?" Harry asked incredulous once he'd managed to get his jaw to work again.

"Yes, I can do that. But I won't. If you wish for such a room, you will have to do the research, and the charm work, yourself."

Green eyes lit up in excitement at the challenge, and Severus had no doubt that Hogwarts would be the proud owner of an indoor Quidditch pitch before the school year was over.

"Alright, let's do this!" Harry stated, finally coming to a decision. "As long as you promise to treat me decently, then I will happily become your apprentice. Hang on, you never said what an apprentice does. Aside from studying, I mean."

Severus snorted a laugh into his bottle. "You should have thought to ask that before agreeing to become my apprentice, Mr Potter," he said ominously. Rising his gaze, Severus realised his mistake too late and burst into laughter at the horrified look on the brat's face.

"Do not worry, Mr Potter, I have already given you my word to treat you like you were one of my snakes," he tried to reassure once he had his mirth under control.

"Ha, ha, very funny, sir," Harry retorted sullenly. Then he sighed ruefully. "Very well, what have I unwittingly signed myself up for this time?"

"It was not uncommon in the old days for an apprentice to become his or her master's housekeeper, making sure their master had a clean house, clean clothes, and good food to eat on top of their demanding studies. If the master was unscrupulous enough, he might have forced his apprentice to become his bed warmer, but I can assure you that that will not be part of your duties," Severus explained blithely.

Harry was back to staring at Snape slack jawed. Just how many times could this man shock him in one conversation anyway? A bed warmer? As in having to have... yeah, with Snape?! The thought wasn't as appalling as it should have been, and the realisation was freaking Harry out. But the thought wasn't that appealing either, which reassured him. Somewhat.

"So, what will my duties be?" Harry managed to croak, not sure he wanted to know, but knew that he needed to if he was to make this... thing work.

"Nothing too strenuous, I assure you. I will require your help grading the younger years. This will give me more time aiding your studies, but it will also help you revise what you should have learned but probably didn't considering the appalling quality of your previous Defence teachers."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. That actually sounded like a good idea.

"There will be no need for you to clean, cook, or wash for me since the house-elves would be most upset if you were to take their jobs from them," Severus went on, ignoring with ease the snort of laughter coming from the brat. "Besides, I believe you will busy mastering your new powers for quite some time."

That reminder killed Harry's hilarity with the swiftness of a bucket of cold water. "I guess you're right, sir," Harry muttered, sending angry thoughts towards the Headmaster. Taking a deep breath, Harry determinedly sat up straight in his chair, pushing his anger aside.

"Very well, what do we need to do, sir? And what do I call you? I mean, do I call you master, or...?" Harry trailed off, unable to hide the wince the thought of calling anyone master produced.

Severus was cringing as well, images of the Dark Lord dancing before his eyes. "It is true that the traditional address is master, but I believe that we can do without that particular honorific, don't you agree, Mr Potter?"

"I do, Professor," Harry replied with some fervour. "Hang on, what about Vol- erm, you know who?" Harry asked, a worried frown appearing on his brow.

"He will be something of a problem, that's true, but he is nothing I can't deal with," Severus said with resolution.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked, incredulous.

"No, you are not going back to that... maniac. Your spying days are over," Harry stated with finality.

"Oh, they are, are they?" Severus purred dangerously, but Harry refused to back down.

"Yes they are. You are needed here, Professor, at Hogwarts, helping your snakes find their footing again now that their world has been turned upside down. They need your brilliant mind to help them get away from their parents and the pressure they are putting on them.

"You can't help them if you are killed or tortured to insanity," Harry added sombrely when it appeared that his words had no effect.

"You do not believe that I can take care of myself?" Severus asked thunderously, scowling darkly at the brat. How dare he?

"Oh, I'm sure that you are very capable of looking after yourself, sir, but this is not normal circumstances. Riddle will be furious when he finds out what I did today. And he will find out, sir, of that I am positive. And when he does, he will punish you. Punish you for not stopping me. Punish you for not informing him right away of what happened. Punish you for not finding a way to discredit me and calling me a liar and whatnot. Do you still believe that you will come back sane and hale the next time he summons you?" Harry asked, doing his best not to shout at Snape, or grab hold and simply shake the stubborn, cantankerous man.

Sitting back in his chair, Severus regarded the brat thoughtfully. "Just what did you do, Mr Potter?" he eventually asked, black eyes locking with glowing green ones.

"What did I...? You know what I did, sir, you were there-"

"I'm not talking about the events in the Great Hall," Severus snapped somewhat testily. "I am talking about what you did to give you the courage to finally rebel against Ms Weasley and her treatment of you."

"Oh," Harry muttered, hiding his face in the kitten's fur.

"Yes, oh," Severus retorted sardonically.

Harry thought carefully about what to say. He had a feeling that Snape would not approve of what he'd done. Then again, this new Snape actually might.

Daring a peek, Harry considered what he was seeing. This was Snape. A relaxed Snape, that had yet to lambast him or in any other way tried to make him feel like all kinds of fool.

Snape was different.

Maybe the visit in his mind had changed him more than Harry thought? More than he realised? The old Snape would never have brought him to his private rooms. The old Snape would never have fed him or given him butterbeer. The old Snape would never have listened to him or treated him decently. The old Snape would never in a million years have offered to become his master. At least he wouldn't have intended to actually teach him anything. The old Snape was a mean old bastard, while this new Snape actually seemed to be a decent guy.

Still, this was _Snape_. Could he actually trust him? Did he dare to? Did he dare not to?

"I found a potion, sir," Harry eventually replied, measuring his words carefully.

"A potion," Severus deadpanned, trying to figure out which potion could have had this drastic effect on the brat. At least he could rule out all the Dark ones, which left... hardly any options at all.

"Yes, believe me or not, I found an old potion recipe that actually worked. And that is all I'm saying until I have your solemn word that you will not go back to... that guy," Harry said simply, albeit somewhat smugly, figuring he now had a sure-fire way to keep Snape from answering Voldemort's next summon.

Severus snorted a laugh. For a first attempt at manipulating him, and by a Gryffindor no less... it was actually quite good. "We shall see," was all he said, chuckling softly at the pout that immediately appeared on the brat's face.

ooThe Endoo

* * *

A/N: Please don't kill the author. Yes, this story is finished, but there will be a sequel.

Eventually.

Once I've finished my Veela story, so it will probably be a while. Current working title is Continued Courage. I will inform you when I'm ready to start posting it.

Until Then

Janara


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